


The Melody Lingers

by Romiress



Series: More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [12]
Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Impulse (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Setting, Developing Relationship, Family Bonding, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Slade Wilson, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Slade Wilson is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 75
Words: 123,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: With the manor destroyed and lives lost, the family must adjust to the new status quo, the new additions, and the complete loss of their home as they do what they can to put the pieces back together.
Relationships: Established Joseph Wilson/Jason Todd, Established Slade Wilson/Bruce Wayne, Joseph Wilson & Thaddeus Thawne, Slade Wilson & Joseph Wilson, Slade Wilson & Thaddeus Thawne, Slade Wilson/Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson
Series: More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386880
Comments: 592
Kudos: 434





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to join us over on [discord](https://discord.gg/kYvx6cd) for update notifications, chapter discussion, fanart, and fanfic!
> 
> The title is a reference to _The Song is Ended (but the Melody Lingers On)_ by Irving Berlin.

They're descending into Gotham's main airport when Jason makes a little noise of surprise, jerking towards the window for a better look. Will cracks an eye open, and Thad does the same, sitting up straight rather than leaning against him.

"That's—Huh?" Jason says, leaning even closer. "The holes gone."

"The what?" Slade asks from behind him, craning his neck to see. "What hole?"

"We're already passed it," Jason says. "But I couldn't see where the manor used to be."

"You probably just missed it," Bruce says. "There's a lot of coast, and if our angle is even slightly off, you wouldn't be able to see the manor." 

"I swear I... whatever, we'll figure it out when we land," Jason grumbles, falling back into his seat. Joey reaches over, resting a hand on Jason's arm, and Jason settles down.

They disembark first, with Slade grabbing most of their luggage for them. Will can only help so much with one hand, but he does throw his own bag over his shoulder, helping Thad with his things. Bruce stays with Damian, and they head for the entrance to find two cars already waiting.

Their own cars, even better. Alfred's standing just in front of one, and his face lights up when he sees them.

"Master Bruce," he calls, eyeing the other civilians emerging from the airport. "It's good to see you back. I was worried you would stay away for longer."

"It was important we get back," Bruce says. "We have a lot on our plate, and I didn't want to be doing it from a timezone away."

"Probably for the best," Alfred says, opening the door so Slade can load Damian into the car. "You'll be happy to know I've already spoken to Thomas. He was concerned about your whereabouts, but I managed to assure him that there was nothing to be concerned about. I did, however, promise him that both you and Master Damian would call him when you are first available so he can see for himself."

"We'll do that the moment we can," Bruce says. "Maybe when we're back at the hotel."

Friday was their usual visiting time, so it seems likely Thomas might be free then.

"I've spoken to the management of the hotel," Alfred says. "They've ensured that one floor of the hotel will be kept just for our use, while the rest of the hotel will reopen for the public. Not many people were displaced in the evacuation, but there are a large number of media from out of town coming in to report. The mayor is expected to hold a press conference tomorrow morning, for example."

"Should I just assume he wants to speak with us?" Bruce asks, and Alfred's wry smile is all the answer he gets.

"What about the Kents?" Damian asks from his seat in the car.

"Already back," Alfred says. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent have been a great help during the adjustment. They remained behind to see to the house, and I spent last night there so I could be handy."

Alfred's technically _met_ Thad before, but that was a very different sort of meeting, so Will plants a hand on Thad's back and slides him forward.

"Al, this is Thaddeus Wilson. He'll be living with us."

Alfred's mouth twitches at the sound of his own name, but he bends down, offering his hand for Thad to take. He does, shaking Alfred's hand formally as if they hadn't already met before.

"It's nice to meet you, young Thaddeus. I'm afraid I have no proper room to offer you with the manor in pieces, but I'm sure we'll find a way to make do."

"What's on the agenda?" Slade asks. "Aside from calling Thomas, anyway."

"I want to see the manor," Jason says.

 _There isn't any of it left,_ Joey signs. _There's not much to see._

"I want to see it anyway," Jason says. "It was home. I want to... to look over it."

Will spots Alfred's mouth twitching ever so slightly and turns, raising an eyebrow.

"Have any of you been checking the news?" Alfred asks.

"...Should I have?" Bruce asks. "I've been staring at blueprints all morning."

"No, and I would ask that you not. I'd prefer it to be a surprise."

Which sounds awfully _ominous_ as far as Will is concerned, but he does as he was asked, keeping his hand off his phone. Jason drives him, Thad, and Joey just behind Alfred's vehicle as they head out of Gotham proper, moving up the coast. Every corner Will expects to start seeing the damage. For the road to just vanish ahead of them, or for something to just be _gone._ There's a few places where driveways are blocked off, but it's unclear if that was to discourage looting or because the place they driveway goes no longer exists.

Eventually they reach the driveway to the manor, they pull off, coasting through what remains of the decimated gate, and end up stopping halfway up where the road simply stops existing.

"What the hell is this," Jason mumbles as he parks. "This doesn't make any sense."

It doesn't. The Kryptonian ship blasted the whole place. It caved in, collapsing onto the cave system that had once served as the batcave. There shouldn't be anything _left,_ and yet the hill looks a whole lot like it used to as they head up where the driveway once was.

There's even grass.

 _Why is there grass?_ Joey signs. _What is this, even?_

At the top of the driveway the ground levels out. If time had really rewound, the manor would be standing right there, but instead it's nothing but pure, untouched ground. The whole place looks like a well manicured lawn. It's almost perfectly level, and the more Will looks, the less he understands.

"This doesn't make any sense," Slade says behind him.

Aside from the missing manor, things look just like they did before. Will knows at least _some_ of the trees should have been destroyed, although farther back—where the graveyard is—should have been untouched. Yet there they are.

"The trees are different," Damian mumbles from his spot. "They're in different spots." Will drags his eyes across the treeline and decides Damian's right. A lot of the first level of trees are different. Different types. Different places.

"I don't get it," Bruce says. "What... what is this, exactly?"

"I was hoping that some ARGUS officials would still be here," Alfred says, "but I'm afraid you've missed them. Very early this morning a group of people arrived offering their assistance. The state of the coast was distressing even to look at, little more than a massive hole in the ground. But one of the men was... well, he had _some_ sort of power, and he simply started rearranging the environment as if he was an artist working clay."

Crap.

"Red hair? Accent so thick you could cut it with a knife?" Will asks.

"That sounds like the same man, yes."

Everyone's looking at him, expecting some kind of an explanation, and Will sighs.

"Brion Markov."

"The king?" Bruce chokes. "The _King of Markovia_ rearranged our lawn?"

"He's Tara Markov's brother," Will says. "I ran into him while we were in Central City and pointed him towards where he might be able to find his missing sister."

 _Terra's brother?_ Joey signs. _Does she even exist in this timeline?_

"Seems like she does, only obviously there's no _me_ running around recruiting her to the mercenary life, so who knows where she ended up. I just shared what I knew. I didn't expect him to fly to Gotham."

"We're a major air transit hub," Bruce says. "It's possible he pit-stopped here before returning to Europe and wanted to... return the favor. I'm going to have to send a thank you."

"Doesn't explain the grass," Slade says, squinting down at it as if expecting it to be up to no good.

"Ivy," Will says. "Right?"

"Correct," Alfred says. "She arrived while Mr. Markov was doing his work and joined in. She seemed pleased for a chance to replenish the plant life. She had quite a harsh opinion of the Kryptonian forces for... ahem, _destroying my garden._ She insisted I make a new one when we spoke."

"That's another person I have to thank," Bruce says with a sigh. "It's going to be a very large list."

"I want to know where the soil came from," Will says, tapping his foot. "We should be a dozen or so feet down. The cave was empty space."

"There is a new cave under there," Alfred says. "Mr. Markov seemed quite delighted by the chance to work his particular brand of magic. I get the impression you're expected to map it on your own, of course."

"You said ARGUS escorted him?" Jason asks, and Alfred nods before hesitating a moment.

"Or perhaps not ARGUS," he admits. "They may simply have been FBI or something of the sort. Regardless, someone very official and intimidating who didn't want me within fifty feet of a man who I was unaware was apparently a king."

As good as things are, there's something melancholy about looking out over what was once the Manor and seeing nothing. Once upon a time there was a home there. Even the place where Will's temporary prison once sat is simply _gone,_ replaced with perfectly kept grass.

"We'll rebuild," Bruce says, sensing the grim mood. "I'm already speaking with a few crews. Think of it this way: this saves me the trouble of renovating." He smiles and tries to crack a joke, but it doesn't really land. After a moment, he simply reaches out, wrapping his arm in Slade's and leaning on his husband's shoulder.

Will feels another painful pang and reaches down, resting a hand on Thad's shoulder.

It feels like they have a lot to rebuild.


	2. Chapter 2

The hotel is more or less the exact same place it was when they left. They've got the same rooms, although there's a bit of shuffling around, and Thad relocates his things into the room beside Will's. While he's initially worried about Tanya leaving things behind, when he checks the room's empty, and it's obvious she thought ahead.

"She planned this," Will grumbles to himself.

"Probably," Thad says, and only years of training keeps Will from jumping in surprise, turning to squint at Thad. He simply grins to Will, zipping away to go back to his room.

Damian and Bruce call Thomas and then join them for dinner. It's a quiet sort of meal, but it's also clear more or less everyone is eager to get to bed that night.

"So where am I taking Thad for school? I'm going to just going to go ahead and assume you've got connections," Will says, looking pointedly between Slade and Bruce.

"Tim works for Robinson academy," Jason says.

"...Robinson academy. You sent Robin to... Robin-son academy."

Sometimes Will really can't believe it.

"I went to Robinson before I was even Batman," Bruce says, looking amused. "They're a good school. I know they have someone in the office on Saturday, but I'm not sure they do admissions... or transfers. Did you want me to handle it...?"

"I just need the introduction," Will says. "I can handle getting him registered. I'll take him over tomorrow."

"Already?" Thad says. "I don't have time to settle in?"

"Settle in _where?"_ Will asks, gesturing around them. The restaurant's half empty, but it's not as if the're in private. "You might as well get on board with something. The less time you have between classes, the less you'll have the catch up on."

"Maybe Joey could come with us?" Thad asks, perking up at the idea.

Jason huffs.

"Sorry, he's booked," Jason says. "I know things have been busy, but he's not going anywhere without me."

Joey looks confused for a second, and then the realization hits him.

 _Oh crap,_ he signs. _Tomorrow is Valentine's day!_

"I already got reservations," Jason says. "I had reservations before this whole crisis popped up, so I'm just happy I'm not missing out on them."

Valentine's day. Crap.

"Is the office still going to be open?"

"It's not a national holiday, Will," Bruce says. "Everything's still going to be open. Just some places will be busy." He pauses, then clears his throat. "You should probably take Thad to a doctor for a checkup."

Will squints at him.

"He's perfectly fine," he says. "Picture of health."

"Somehow I doubt that Kryptonians were all that interested in his long term health... or aware of human anatomy in general. Beyond a checkup, he probably hasn't had any vaccinations." He looks to Thad, who simply shrugs. Will drags his hand down his face.

"Can I take him to Doctor Villain?" At least he knows he can trust him. Villain wouldn't be caught dead sharing information or anything of the short.

"Knock yourself out," Slade says. "I don't see any reason why you wouldn't, even if he's a bit out of the way."

"I'll call him," Will says. "We can go _after_ we get Thad registered for school." He eyes Thad, who sulks a bit at the mention. It's obvious he's not looking forward to school, and Will doesn't blame him. He did well enough joining the school with a pack, but instead he's coming in both late in the school year and entirely by himself. It'd be hard for anyone, but for someone with a history like Thad's? Practically a nightmare.

Will does end up calling Villain, who is irritatingly pleasant as he confirms the appointment. Tim texts Will with some information, and asks for a picture of Thad. Will isn't sure if he means for himself or for the school, so he ends up taking one of each, with Thad fidgeting the whole while.

They leave first thing in the morning, heading straight for Robinson academy. The city's already mostly unevacuated, and as far as Will can tell the only people still gone were people who decided to use the whole thing as an excuse to go on hard earned vacation. More or less everything seems open, and people seem to be in good spirits.

He makes sure Thad looks presentable before he lets him out of the car, heading inside with Thad on his heels.

"Mr. Wilson?" The administrator asks. She's a middle aged woman, the sort of middle management who takes pains to be as professional as possible, and she ushers them into an office. Thad looks almost nervous as he takes a seat, so Will makes a show of looking as casual as possible, sprawling out in the chair like he owns the place.

"Your paperwork came through already," she says, flipping through it. "So it would appear to be a fairly standard transfer. Obviously there will be some bumpy patches where the cross-state curriculum doesn't quite match up, but I'm sure we can work that out." She pauses, here eyes flicking up and down the page, and then glances up. "But..."

Will cringes. He hates the _but_ already, so he tries to get ahead of it.

"Let me guess," he says. "Some of the paperwork uses the wrong name?"

"The files are for Thaddeus Wilson," she confirms. "Most of the notes refer to a Bart?"

Will doesn't even know where the hell he's supposed to start, so he does what he can to keep it brief.

"Thaddeus was registered under an alternate name for League business. Now that it's all over and done with, he's being reregistered under his real name. It's just Thaddeus."

She pauses for a moment to process the information, but seems satisfied by his answer, leaning down to make a few quick notes. Thad's gone stiff, obviously touchy about the subject, so Will simply brushes over it.

"Tim Drake works here?"

Her eyebrows go up, momentarily confused.

"Professor Wayne-Gordon does, yes," she says. "I was told you're extended family?"

"Of sorts." Will is very aware that explaining the connection would require a map. Tim is, by Will's reckoning, Will's son's boyfriend's brother, but the fact that he lives with most of Tim's family complicates things.

"There's about a fifty fifty chance that Thaddeus will end up with Mr. Wayne-Gordon for his science classes. We'll have to see where there's room in the schedule. I can't guarantee he'll start on Monday, but obviously the less time he has out of class, the better. I'll get in touch when I can."

Will doesn't bother going back to the hotel after that. Instead, he simply starts driving straight for Villain's office with Thad in tow.

"Feels like a lot of driving," Thad says quietly, watching Will out of the corner of his eye. "Should you be driving with your arm like that...?"

"Please," Will says, rolling his eyes. "I could drive a car with my knee without issue. This is nothing." Driving one-handed is such a non-issue that he doesn't even notice the absence the vast majority of the time. Really, he knows he's been lucky so far: nothing he's done has really required a second hand.

"If you say so."

Villain's obviously irritated by their early arrival, but makes time for them anyway. He sits Thad down and starts giving him a full physical, chatting as he does.

"So he's also a clone?" Villain asks.

"Also?" Thad asks, glancing between the two of them.

"I consult for ARGUS," Villain elaborates. "I'm aware of the circumstances that created the five identical superboys. You're hardly the only clone."

"Yes," Will confirms. "Different process, though. He was made with Kryptonian technology, if that makes a difference."

"That's an excellent question for which I have no answers," Villain says, even though Will hasn't actually _posed_ a question. "I'll do some genetic tests to ensure that everything is in order. And of course some from you as well."

"From me?" Will asks, baffled.

"While it's very early, having multiple samples will make a comparison more easy to allow us to confirm that my serum has done what it was supposed to."

"Which serum?" Thad asks as Villain takes some blood samples.

"To allow him to age," Villain explains. "The point of the serum was to lock his regeneration at the same level as Slade's, allowing Will to age in a similar manner."

Thad obviously knew a lot of what Villain just said, but not all of it, and hearing it from the doctor has let him put it all together and finally _understand_ what he heard about before. He nods, staring up at Will, and then nods again.

"I understand."

Villain moves right on over, pulling another needle to collect a sample from Will, and carefully labels both vials.

"Tissue samples shouldn't be necessary for now," he says. "But I do want to get a clear set of X-rays from Thaddeus." He pauses, then glances at Thaddeus over the top of his clipboard. "It is Thaddeus?"

"It's Thaddeus," Will confirms for him. "Try not to have too much fun studying him."

"I make no such promises," Villain says dryly. They aren't alone in the building, but everyone simply gets out of Villain's way when they see him coming. He's so clearly _in charge,_ and he's got the run of the place. Will wonders how much he's making without Slade as a regular shady patient paying out the ass for the sort of privacy that few people can provide.

Apparently the answer is _still a lot._ He has Thaddeus demonstrate his speed a few ways just to be sure, and then goes to fetch a small mountain of vials.

"I think we can safely assume that you have not had your shots."

"You make him sound like a dog," Will grumbles before Villain starts rattling off everything Thad's going to need to get caught up.

"Somehow I doubt that Kryptonians were worried about tetanus, but someone who operates at super speed should absolutely be concerned about that exact sort of thing, so here we are," Villain says.

"I don't mind," Thad says, looking genuinely concerned that Will _himself_ might be concerned.

"I assume they ran a number of tests?" Villain asks. Thad nods, and Villain sighs. "If we had access to that data, it would certainly be helpful. More data is always better, and yet here we are, forced to make do from scratch."

"Anything to be worried about?" Will asks and Villain looks at him like he's an idiot.

"I haven't even looked at the data. The best I can say is that no, he doesn't have anything blatantly out of place. He looks like a perfectly normal fourteen year old."

Hell. Sometimes it's so easy for Will to forget how _young_ Thad is. A lot of the time he acts much older than he actually is. He fit right in with Tanya without even batting an eye, but really he's younger than Damian.

It's a weird thought, and Will doesn't quite know what to think about it.

"Let me look at your arm," Villain says. Will doesn't really get a choice, with Villain simply guiding him into place and peeling up Will's sleeve. He's really just been letting the sleeves dangle, but he's aware that at some point he's going to have to start pinning them up so they don't get in the way.

"Seems to have healed fine," Villain says, looking it over. "A bit less rounded than a proper amputation would have done, but reshaping wouldn't take with even Slade's level of regeneration. You'll simply have to manage."

"Bruce can afford a custom prosthetic," Will grumbles, and then second guesses himself with a little huff. No prosthetic. Not right then.

"I'm sure he can," Villain says. "But you have a clean bill of health. I'll put together a record for Thaddeus if your school requires one. I assume he's going to some elite private academy?"

"Robinson."

"They'll want an immunization record, and confirmation of known allergies. I assume you have none?" He raises an eyebrow, and Thad shakes his head as Villain scribbles it down. "Head to the secretary, pay your bill, and sign the appropriate disclosures. I'll want you both here in four weeks. Thaddeus will need extra doses, and I'll want more samples for you. Call ahead next time, and show up on time."

Will grumbles the whole time, but he pays his bill, books an actual appointment, and gets back in the car.

"I like him," Thad announces. Will grunts, and then turns his head to squint at Thad.

"...Why?"

"You have a very controlling personality," Thad says, "and he just bosses you around like it's nothing."

Will groans and starts the car. Of _course_ Thad would like the man who pushes him around without hesitation.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day feels downright unpleasant, and Will's having a hard time figuring out exactly why. Part of it is probably the fact that he spends it back at the hotel, but when he makes a weak attempt to be honest with himself he has to admit that a larger part of it is that half their group is gone. Jason and Joey go out as planned, and Alfred convinces Bruce and Slade to do the same. In the end it's Damian, Thad, Alfred, and him sitting in the restaurant that serves as the hotels only major common area.

"Should have gotten a hotel with a rooftop garden," Will grips. He doesn't like it. He feels unsettled, and there's nothing he can do to resolve it. Damian looks to be doing better, sitting up more easily, and he seems to have an easier time focusing.

Midway through dinner, they wind up with a guest. Jon leans in the restaurant, spotting them and heading over. He's clearly making an attempt to be discrete, but it's pointless: the media already knows where they're staying, and the only reason they aren't being swarmed is because the hotel security is working overtime to keep them out. Will still hasn't bothered to look at the news, even though they missed the conference, and a part of him doesn't _want_ to.

"Damian!" Jon says. "Thad!" He pulls a seat over, sitting himself right between the two of them.

"How's the family?" Will asks.

"We moved everything back into the house," Jon says. "But Dad's been gone a lot. They have him looking into the ship, so with him and aunt Kara gone, it seems a lot quieter."

Only with the Kent's could a house with nine people in it be considered _quiet._

"And your grandparents?"

"They spent the whole day complaining about the press conference," Jon says, and Will groans.

"Do I want to know?"

"You didn't watch it?" Alfred asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I was driving. And then I was busy."

"We've been home for hours," Thaddeus points out, and Will sighs.

"I'll watch it when I'm back in my room then." He doesn't want to watch it right then. He doesn't have headphones, and if the Kent's spent the whole day complaining about it, it's nothing good.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stop avoiding things eventually," Alfred says, cutting the problem down to the root. Will glares at him, grabbing his glass and draining it in one go.

"I'm going to the bar," Will says. "I'll come back when I've got something in my glass that's going to burn on the way down."

Just because he can't get drunk doesn't mean he doesn't like the taste, and more than anything he appreciates the _statement_ it makes on the way down.

Really, the whole family is downright insufferable at times, Alfred included.

Will's getting a tumbler of whiskey when someone slides right up to him, leaning up against the bar. She's young—maybe thirty—with long brown hair and bright green eyes. He doesn't recognize her, but that doesn't mean much: it's entirely possible Will _should_ know her, and just doesn't recognize her thanks to the wonders of universal differences.

"Just getting a drink for yourself?" She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"Just me," he confirms. He's not stupid. He can guess what she's getting at already. The way her eyes are sweeping up and down him doesn't leave much to the imagination.

"It would be a shame to drink alone tonight of all nights," she says. "I'm Charlotte. Why don't we get to know each other?"

It's not subtle. But her top's low cut in just the right way that when she leans forward the sight is a _very_ appealing one. Back in his old world he'd have gone along with it. She's attractive. She's interested. Those were his standards.

But with Thad waiting back at the table, Will isn't looking for a quick fuck.

"I'll pass," he says, and her face falls. "Good luck with your hunting."

He leaves her behind at the bar, returning to their table, and settles in with his glass, leaning back in his seat. Maybe it's stupid, but it feels like the most blatant sign of how much he's changed possible: that he'd _turn down_ an attractive woman who was clearly interested in climbing into his bed. The conversation moves on without him, and Will can't help but get lost in his own head.

"Everything alright?" Alfred asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing to worry about," Will says. "Just feeling a bit... thrown off."

"Maybe an early night?" Damian suggests with a yawn. Jon hasn't actually been there all that long, but it's not as if getting home is hard for him.

"Sure," Will says. "I'm going to call it here." He downs his glass, setting it down on the table before getting to his feet.

"I'm going to go too," Thad says, getting up after him. "We could watch the press conference together?"

Will doesn't see why not, so he shrugs and waves for Thad to follow, saying goodnight to everyone else as he leaves them behind. There's a TV in his room, and it isn't hard to find a channel that's talking about it and starts showing clips.

It isn't hard for Will to spot what bothered the Kents. While there's nothing particularly _objectionable_ about the mayor's press conference, it's also focused on how narrowly the disaster was averted. The news keeps showing shots of the damage, of the Kryptonian ship flying north with Clark at the helm, and one video that keeps playing over and over of the ship blasting the manor.

Will feels sick just watching it. That was Joey's home. That was _his_ home.

"You aren't feeling well," Thad says quietly, reaching up to take Will's hand.

"I'm fine," Will says, jerking his hand back, before realizing his mistake and correcting. "I just don't like seeing it. Every time I look I keep thinking... that was Joey's home. People lived there. Damian _grew up_ in that house. Hell, so did Bruce."

"They'll rebuild," Thad says. "I could help. I bet I could help build it really fast."

"You shouldn't have to," Will says, sagging down onto the bed. "It shouldn't have happened. We have to be better about it. If it wasn't for you..." He hesitates a second, and then says it anyway. "If you hadn't warned us, a lot of people would be dead. I'd be dead. Bruce—"

"You'd be alive," Thad corrects. "Not that it would be much better. I used to see you sometimes... you'd walk past the lab on your way down to the prisoner cells when they let you see him."

Will hesitates. The truth no longer feels like a good thing right then.

"No," he says. "That was Slade."

"Slade?" Thad says. "But—"

"Slade used to be Deathstroke too. It's a secret. But... that was him, not me, in your future. Pretty sure I was just dead, because if it hadn't been for the Titans, my regeneration would have just been off."

"But how do you _know?"_ Thad asks. "It could have been you." He seems genuinely distressed by the possibility, which only makes things feel that much worse.

"Because if Joey was alive there wouldn't be anything in the world that could keep me from him. No matter how much I loved someone like Bruce, it wouldn't change that I'd want to stay with Joey."

Thad seems taken aback, like he has no idea what to do with that information.

"That counts you," Will clarifies. "You're my kid now. I'm not going to let anyone get between me and my boys."

"Oh," Thad says, his voice soft.

"So it wasn't me," he clarifies. "It was Slade. And I... should probably tell them at some point. They probably think that I..." He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. He doesn't even know how to put it into words.

"That you like Bruce?" Thad finishes for him. "Do you?"

Will considers how plausible it is to simply throw Thad out the window right then. He lets out a groan, sinking farther down into the bed.

"I don't know," he says. "Figuring out how I feel about people in a _non-romantic_ matter is simpler. Figuring out anything else is just... confusing."

"Agreed," Thad says. "Did you know Soranik asked me to date?"

_What?_

"Yep," Thad says, pulling his legs up to his chest. "A couple weeks ago. I told her it would be bad for... for team dynamics."

The real answer probably had a lot more to do with the very real possibility of them all getting killed than _team dynamics._

"Did you like her?"

Thad shrugs his shoulders.

"I dunno," he finally says. "Like you said. It's confusing. I asked Jackson about it, and he said I had a lot of time so I shouldn't worry about it much."

Will wishes _he_ could think that. He doesn't have age as an excuse like Thad does.

"...You should go to sleep," he says.

"I don't see why," Thad finally says, sitting up a bit straighter. "It's not like we have anything to do tomorrow. It's just going to be more of the same until the manor's built."

He's right. There's so much to do, and it feels like they can't actually _do_ any of it. All they can do is bide their time.

"Have you messaged anyone on the team?" Will asks. "Maybe send them a message. Let them know what's going on. You should stay in touch."

Thad mumbles to himself, but nods his head anyway.

Will pauses, then gives him a small grin.

"Tell them I say hi, alright?"

"I will," Thad says, hopping to his feet. "Get some sleep."

"I will," he says, sinking down into the bed and letting his eyes drift closed.

He's going to have a lot of time to sleep, isn't he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [And we've done it! :D](https://i.imgur.com/86Q0ey7.png)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter discusses some potentially disturbing (canon) subjects. If you want to skip past them, you can CTRL+F for Mercenary to skip past them.
> 
> Contains discussion of suicide, victim blaming, and child abuse.

It's Sunday, a fact that Will is made aware of by the fact that Joey skips breakfast to go to church. Thad watches him go, but brushes over the idea fairly quickly.

"How did your plans go?" Slade asks Jason as they eat breakfast. They've got a reserved table off to the side, and it's rare that they eat anywhere else. Will's working his way through the menu, and he's hoping for some variety before long.

"Good," Jason says with a grin. "Did dinner and a show. Gotham isn't exactly Broadway, but there's a few good shows that run locally. What did you guys do?"

"Stayed here," Will grunts.

"Took Bruce out to one of our old dates spots," Slade says, looking pleased with himself. "Still can't believe I managed to get him to stop gawking at specs for the new manor."

"It's high priority," Bruce grumbles. "It's _important._ Valentines isn't."

"You can make Valentines important," Slade counters.

Mid-banter, Will spots someone coming in the front entrance of the hotel, turns his head, and then realizes he _recognizes_ them. He chokes on his bacon, catching himself as he quickly attempts to recover.

"Is that Murillo?" He asks, turning to squint at the tiny woman now milling about the entrance. When he glances back, Slade's wide grin makes the answer clear.

"You said you'd do therapy."

"At _some point,"_ Will grumbles. "Not _right now."_

"Right now is as good a time as any," Bruce says. "I'm going to go talk to some construction teams. Jason is going to take Damian to go see Portia and Titus, I was thinking Thad might want to go meet Tim and Barbara a bit more formally?"

Will glances to Thad, but he seems fine with the whole idea.

"Sure," Thad says. "I can go meet them. They have a son, right?"

"Who's also named Jackson," Damian says.

Will excuses himself from the table and goes to meet Murillo. She's the same woman he remembers, and she looks irritated by more or less everything. Rather than being bothered, Will feels a sense of camaraderie; neither of them really want to be there, after all.

"You're lucky he owns the building," Murillo says as as she guides them down a hall. She's already got a key, and she lets them into what he assumes is a business office. "Otherwise we were going to have to leave. I wouldn't consent to it being recorded, so I had to get them to disable security for the room."

"Do you believe they actually did?" Will asks. If she did, he has a bridge to sell her.

"Of course not," she says. "But their security doesn't have sound anyway, and if anyone even _thinks_ about releasing the tape, Wayne will sue them so hard their great grandchildren will be paying for it." She seems amused by the idea, settling in on the chair farthest from the door.

"Camera's up there," She says, pointing to it in the corner. "So you're sitting with your back to it so it can't record your responses."

That's... an interesting thing to focus on, Will has to say. But he appreciates the idea anyway.

"I'm not going to have you explain everything that's happened since our last session. I don't think my previous setup was helping you as much as I'd like, so I'm going to take an alternative path," Murillo says. She seems even more direct than she did before, which is good. Less wasted time.

"So," she says, leaning forward in her seat. "What specifically did you want to discuss?"

Will isn't sure if she's doing things differently because Slade told her that Will was there willingly, or simply because she knows him better, and the question renders him temporarily speechless as he tries to wrap his head around it. Around... deciding. He almost brings up his arm, but after a bit of thought he brushes the idea aside. His arm's already done. It's finished. He made his choice the moment he injected the serum into his neck, and whether or not it was the _right_ choice doesn't matter.

The choice is made, and he can't take it back.

"Thad," Will says instead. It seems like a better topic.

Murillo raises an eyebrow, inviting clarification.

"Thad is my son. My new son. I adopted him after everything with the League was done. He got attached, I got attached, he needed a place to go..."

"So you took him in."

Will nods. It sounds simple when she says it like that.

"Which I assume is not the thing you're interested in discussing," Murillo says, steepling her hands together.

"Worried I'm going to fuck him up," Will says. There's no point in dragging it out. Eventually they're going to come around to that one singular point. Eventually they're going to have to talk about that. "I had three kids, I screwed all three of them up in different ways, and now I'm on take four and probably going to screw him up too."

Murillo plucks a pen from her pocket, spinning it in her fingers. Will can't help but relate it to a computer working on loading something.

"What were your parents like?" She asks, and Will scowls at her.

"Do we need to talk about them?"

"Unless someone is making an active effort to _not_ be like their parents, they tend to mimic the parenting styles they've seen modeled around them. For most people, that means the parenting style used on them."

"I'm not like my dad."

"Your mother?"

"I'm not like her either." He scowls at the thought. He doesn't like those memories. He doesn't talk about them, doesn't deal with them. But of course she's not going to let him just keep on ignoring it.

"Tell me about them."

"Not much to say," Will says. "My father was a useless, violent drunk. My mother was a useless coward who abandoned me with him alone."

Murillo keeps a perfectly—almost unnaturally—straight face. She isn't making notes, and Will wonders if she's going to make them after the fact.

"No siblings?"

"Thank god for that," Will says. "Can't imagine any kids that came after would have had it any better than I did. Pretty sure dear old dad would have made her get rid of any if she's gotten pregnant again. She probably learned from her mistake the first time around though."

Will can't quite stop the anger from bubbling up. He knwos what she thinks.

"I don't have abandonment issues. I'm not worried about people ditching me."

Murillo fixes him with a blank glare.

"Will, you have the most textbook case of abandonment issues I've ever seen in my life. A classic behavior is keeping people at a distance so that there's no chance of abandonment. A fear of emotional intimacy, acting irrationally and pushing people away before they can push you away..."

"I'm none of those things," Will snaps.

Will could break her in half in an instant, but Murillo shows absolutely no fear in face of his anger as she stares him down.

"You've only told me some of what life was like for your children. Even from what little _you've_ told me, you chased your son across dimensions to prevent him from cutting ties."

"It worked," Will counters. "He's still in my life. I was too... hands off. I fucked up with Grant, but I'm doing better with Joey. I just need to keep being... present. I need to keep telling him how important he is."

"Those are good things to do," Murillo says, "but the important thing right now is _self reflection._ You need to look at your own actions so you can spot mistakes and flawed thinking _before_ it causes damage to your relationships."

"I don't really do reflection," Will grunts. "I prefer to... live in the moment."

Murillo's expression is _deeply_ unimpressed. 

"That's a poor excuse," she says, "and I think you know it. So lets rewind—your father was abusive?"

"He used to lock me in the shed out back if I wasn't _thankful_ enough that he was putting a roof over my head," Will grumbles. It breaks Murillo's facade just for a moment, because she winces at the mention.

"What about your mother, before she left?"

"Useless," he says with a wave of his hand. "Seemed like she was happy that dad's focus was on me and not her."

"People's feelings towards other people who were suffering abuse at the hands of the same person tend to be complex," Murillo says. "They suffer with you, but it's difficult to escape feelings like what you've experienced. The feeling that the two of you are _competing_ to avoid the attention of an abusive family member. It's not a healthy dynamic, and to someone in your situation I would generally encourage a child to get well away from the situation as fast as possible."

"Which is what I did," Will says. "Joined the army and never went back. For all I know he's still alive, fucking around and making everyone around him miserable."

"Did you ever try and seek out your mother?"

The question throws him off for a second, and then Will realizes the misunderstanding.

"No," he said. "She's dead. She killed herself when I was a kid. Maybe twelve?" He doesn't remember. The less he thinks about it, the better.

Murillo looks at him like he's just tossed a grenade into her lap.

"She—hold on, let me rewind. When you said she abandoned you, you meant—"

Will probably shouldn't feel smug about the fact that he cracked her perfectly-in-control demeanor, but he absolutely is.

"Yeah," he says. "Left me alone with him. Ran away a bunch but I kept ending up back with him when the authorities would pick me up. I'd tell them what kind of a scumbag he was, and then he'd give them a sob story about how hard it's been since she offed herself."

Murillo clearly has no idea what the hell she's supposed to say to that. It takes her a solid minute to pull herself together enough to actually come up with a coherent response.

"And earlier you were arguing you _don't_ have abandonment issues? Will, your mother killed herself and left you alone with your abusive father. It is... very, _very_ understandable that you'd have a hard time with both relationships _and_ parenting. These are... These are normal responses to the things you went through, Will, and I'm not sure you realize that."

"You're the therapist," Will says. "Isn't it your job to fix this stuff?"

"It is my job to help give you the tools to resolve your issues," Murillo says. "In this case, a lot of what I'll be doing is... clarifying to you when something is problematic, compared to when something is normal. Your lifestyle in particular seems to have made it hard for you to identify which behaviors could be considered normal or not."

"My lifestyle."

"Being a hitman."

"Mercenary," Will corrects. "Retired."

"The point stands."

Will engages in a brief stare off with her before sighing and reaching up, rubbing at his eyes.

"Are we done?" Will asks. He wants to be done.

"No," Murillo says. "When wrapping up a session like this, I find it's helpful to leave you with... homework. Insight. You expressed concerns that you'd have a hard time parenting Thad successfully, so I wanted to focus on that. You lack proper role models when it comes to parenting, so it's important to recognize the ones you do have in your life. When you see a parent with a child, observe them. See how they handle things. You have a very analytical mind. You break down impossibly complex plans for work. So use that brain for this. They don't even have to be real people: when you watch television or movies, think critically about the parenting depicted. Examine it."

"And what?"

"That's all you have to do. Just examine it. Thinking critically about other people's parenting will help you think critically about your own parenting skills."

He supposes he can do that. Analysis is something he can do, and while he doesn't normally consume media, he's sure he could get a list of family-friendly movies to watch with Thad. They have time. Hell, he has too much time.

"We're done now?"

"We're done," Murillo confirms. "Rather than picking a certain day, we're going to be checking in infrequently. If something comes up you want to talk about, you should send me a message and I'll make time. The hotel isn't far from my office, so stopping by is easier than it was to come by the manor."

"I'll call," Will says. "Seems like it might be smarter to just let Joey schedule my appointments, though..."

Murillo actually laughs at that, getting up from her seat and straightening her shirt as she does.

"It probably would. But it's important that you take the initiative. That you have a say in your own treatment."

Treatment. It doesn't feel like treatment. Hell, it kind of feels like torture. Talking about feelings. Facing down the barrel of the gun that is his relationship with his other kids. He's doing okay with Joey, but what about Rose? What about _Grant?_

He doesn't want to think about the way that his relationship with Grant mirrors his relationship with his own father. Really, the less he thinks about it, the better.


	5. Chapter 5

Will spends the afternoon trying to be productive. He has several days of classes missed he has to apply for a waiver on, but a picture of his face apparently qualifies as a _good reason to miss class._ He's not sure there's a point in still going for his nurse's license, but he doesn't feel like he has much else to do anyway, so he goes for it anyway.

He's going to have a lot of empty time to fill. He ends up sending messages to people—Tanya and Victoria in particular—and then goes to check what the public things about things.

He doesn't like what he finds. There's a lot of panic about the ship still, even though ARGUS has put out press releases insisting the danger's passed. People are still sharing around photos of where the manor used to be, even though the damage to the hill's already repaired. There's no mention of Kandor, and Will's sure that's a good thing. He can't imagine they'd take it very well.

He wishes he had the manor. There was always something to do there, and right then he doesn't have enough.

He's going to need a hobby or something.

Joey gets back first, but Jason, Damian, and Thad arrive not long after. Damian helpfully informs him that Portia really liked Thad, and Thad tells him that he's going to have at least one class with Tim.

The following day is torture.

Thad has school—Will gets to drop him off and sign a few more bits of paperwork—and then that's it. There's nothing else for him to do. Everyone _else_ has things they're doing, but all he can do is sit at the hotel. In the end the agitation gets too much and he goes out for a jog, working his way through the streets of Gotham.

It doesn't _feel_ like the city was nearly destroyed less than a week ago. It feels like nothing even happened. Life has moved on.

Will feels like he hasn't. He misses his team. He misses having training and a schedule and things to _do._ It hasn't even been a full day and he's already going absolutely nuts.

So when everyone's back together for dinner, Will addresses the issue directly.

"I'm going crazy," Will says. "Anyone need any help with things? Slade? Al?" He glances between them, since they're the most likely suspects as far as getting something to do.\

"Not much for me to do than stand around and answer questions," Slade says. 

"I'm afraid it's much the same for me," Alfred says.

"Joey?"

 _Working a gallery, pop,_ Joey signs. _Sorry._

Crap. Jason and Bruce both have normal work, and Thad's got school.

"Time for a hobby," Jason says. "What did you do before?"

"Prepared my gear," Will grumbles. "Worked out."

"There's a library nearby," Jason suggests. "It's a bit of a walk, but you could get books to read there."

Working out seems like a better solution, so that's what Will does the next day. Some exercises are impossible with only one hand, but he can adapt some and make do. He's in the middle of working on his balance with one handed handstand push-ups when Thad gets back from class, stopping in the entrance to Will's room to gawk. The gawking doesn't last long, and then Thad makes an attempt to do the same himself.

"Don't," Will warns. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Why?" Thad asks, pushing himself into a very wobbly handstand.

"Not possible," he says.

"You're doing it right now," Thad points out, and Will stops, balancing on his arm as he rotates his head to squint at Thad. He's not supposed to be home for another fifteen minutes at _least,_ which means he definitely just ran back to the hotel rather than taking the bus like he was supposed to.

"I have super strength," Will points out. "You're fast, but you're not super-humanly strong. Human shoulders weren't built to handle that kind of transition."

Thad tries anyway and ends up landing on his ass for his trouble. Will rolls his eyes, bringing his feet back down so he can stand normally, and then helps Thad pick himself up.

"You're really bored, aren't you?" Thad asks.

"Extremely," Will mutters.

"You should help build the house," Thad says. "You could probably help with heavy lifting and things."

"Clark's boys are already doing that," Will grumbles. "They don't have any sort of heavy equipment because they just always have one or two Superboys hanging around to move things around to speed things up."

"...Could you still do a handstand push-up if I was holding onto you?"

Which is what they're doing when Joey finds them. Thad's sitting on top of Will's feet as Will does the push-up, which makes balancing the whole thing an absolute nightmare.

 _I don't even want to know,_ Joey signs when Will rotates his head enough to look at him. _I didn't realize it was this bad._

"You should try!" Thad says, seeming amused by the idea.

 _Oh no. Absolutely not,_ Joey signs. _I'm not climbing up onto pop's feet to get carried around like that._

The real tragedy is that with one hand, Will doesn't have the option of walking on his hands to prove the point. Thad eventually gets down and Will gets back onto his feet. He doesn't even feel sore, but he can't tell if that's normal or not.

He ends up asking Slade over dinner.

"How fast do you burn out when working out?" Will asks as they eat.

"I don't with standard equipment," Slade says. "With the specialized stuff down in the cave I could do a couple hours before I had to recover."

That sounds the same as his, which means he doesn't have anything to tell Villain.

"Did you go to the library?" Jason asks.

"Didn't make it there," Will says.

"He was working out," Thad says.

"I was learning to make do with one arm," Will corrects. "I had to adjust my balance."

"And you did that in one day?" Bruce asks, looking perplexed.

"Sounds about right to me," Slade asks. Damian mumbles something about Slade being _nonsense_ under his breath.

"Why don't you come see the manor?" Slade asks. "We've been making good progress already."

"Sure," Will says. "Why not."

Slade isn't kidding when he said that the construction crew has been making good progress, but then he also didn't emphasize how many _people_ there are. There have to be at least three different crews working concurrently, and easily a hundred people swarming the grounds and working in tandem.

"Everyone wants to be involved with rebuilding the manor," Slade points out. "For a Gotham construction company, it's pretty much the highest praise you could manage. Saying you built Batman's house..."

"I get it," Will says. There's no real basement, but one group is in the process of building what looks like an access tunnel from the cave system below through the crawlspace that's being constructed above.

"There's a whole crew down below," Slade points out. "Building walkways and all the stuff we'll need for a new cave."

"Which is stupid," Will points out. "The whole point of the cave was that it was secret."

"Now it's extra storage and a place to train," Slade says. "But more than that... the manor wouldn't feel right without a cave. It's necessary."

Will doesn't agree that it's _necessary,_ but he doesn't argue either.

What Slade said when he first asked is correct though: there isn't actually much for them to do. They aren't professionals. Every so often they get pulled in to answer a question or two, but standing around watching is _not_ what Will wants.

So when Joey mentions being free the next day, Will nearly trips over himself.

"Thank you," Will says. "Plans? Anything?"

_I was thinking we could take Thad with us when he's out of school._

Which still leaves Will with the whole day, but at least it's something.

"Take him where?"

 _That's a surprise,_ Joey signs with a wink. _You're down, right Thad?_

"Sure," Thad says. "I finish homework before come back here, so I don't have anything else I need to do."

"Have you been keeping up with the team?" Will asks.

"Jon's upset his dad's gone so much, but he likes seeing Siracca in class," Thad says.

"Jackson's been helping identify a place for Kandor," Damian says. "I talked to him this morning."

They're all keeping in touch, which Will is happy for. There's even brief mention of a _group chat_ which Will is firmly not invited to.

But by the time he goes to bed that night, Will feels a little bit more relaxed than he did before. There's something simply _good_ about having plans. About having things to do. He needs to stay busy, he realizes, but he never realized how bad it could get before.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite Will's concerns about having nothing to do that morning, he does end up with stuff to do. With Slade and Bruce both busy, it falls upon Will and Joey to accompany Damian to the hospital. Alfred can drive, but he doesn't trust himself to actually help Damian in and out of the car, and the doctor doesn't want him walking just yet.

"I can walk!" Damian protests.

"A blow to the head could cause permanent damage," the doctor admonishes him as she runs Damian through an MRI machine.

"A blow to the head could always cause permanent damage," Will says, entirely unhelpfully. Joey smacks him in the arm and glares at him, and Will keeps himself quiet rather than hassling the doctor.

It takes far too long to get through things. Even worse, people keep snapping pictures of them, gawking blatantly at the group of them as they head back down to the car.

"I want to walk," Damian protests.

"Give it a few more days at least, Master Damian," Alfred begs. "If something were to happen to you..."

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Damian says. "Will would stop anyone who attacked."

 _No one's going to attack,_ Joey signs. _I'm more worried about you tripping._

Damian looks scandalized.

"Tripping? I was trained by Batman himself. I would not _trip."_

"Everyone trips, kid," Will says. "Don't forget that I've _seen_ you trip."

"Only because someone tripped me!"

"My point exactly."

Damian huffs and sulks the whole way back to the hotel. Once they've unloaded him, Alfred takes over, and Joey heads towards the school to go pick up Thad.

"Or he could meet us there," Will points out.

"Sure," Joey says through car's bluetooth speaker. "But then I'd have to tell you where we're going, and I'm not going to."

Joey, of course, insists on driving. They pick Thad up from school (he looks as unimpressed as Will does) who slides right into the back of the car, leaning forward over Will's shoulder to watch the road.

"Do we know where we're going?"

"Joey's keeping this a secret," Will says, "so no."

"But this is like... a family trip, right?"

Will feels a surge of pride at not just the mention that Thad considers him _family,_ but also the fact that he considers _Joey_ family. The two haven't had all that much time around each other, so the fact that they're getting along is a good sign in Will's not so humble opinion.

"Here we are," Joey says as he pulls into a small parking lot just off the road. Will gawks. There's no pointing pretending he's not confused as hell, because he _is._

"An escape room?" he asks, incredulous. "Joey, you are aware who I am? You didn't accidentally trip and forget that I can escape from anything?"

"You aren't escaping from handcuffs or anything like that, pop," Joey says, turning off the engine and seamlessly swapping over to sign. _It's a puzzle room. There's challenges and riddles and things. A friend of mine works here._

"I don't see the appeal."

"Agreed," Thad says. "I don't understand the point."

 _You're supposed to be challenging yourself,_ Joey signs. _I had fun when I did it. It's something Jason and I used to do with friends._

"That _used to_ sounds ominous."

 _We've just done every escape room in driving distance to hell and back,_ Joey huffs. _This one's really good. I think you'll have fun._

Will isn't going to say no to Joey, so they all climb out of the car and head inside. The young man behind the desk is someone he recognizes: one of Jason's friends who he briefly ran into the zoo. In fact, after a bit of thought, he realizes that it's the same one that kept staring at him, and when he glances up, sees Joey and Will, and immediately goes pink, Will snorts.

"Friend of yours?"

 _This is Cullen,_ Joey signs. Will's pretty sure Cullen's grasp of ASL isn't the best, because he's obviously having to focus extra hard to follow the conversation.

"Will," he says, offering his hand, and Cullen stands, giving it a shake. Will glances down, and Thad offers his hand too.

"Thad."

"Oh wow," Cullen says. "This is _the_ Thad?" The way he says it makes it clear he's heard things, and Thad goes red.

"Hopefully good things," Will says warningly. If Cullen's about to make a comment about Thad being a spy from the future or something, Will's going to toss him out a window.

"Of course," Cullen says, holding his hands up. "Joey mentioned him a few times in our group chat. He said he was the new addition to the family."

 _My little brother,_ Joey signs with a grin. He reaches down, ruffling Thad's hair, and Thad looks at the ground, his face burning red with embarrassment. 

"Nice to meet you then," Cullen says. "You guys playing, or...?"

"Absolutely not," someone says as one of the side doors whip open. "I need to adjust difficulty before I let _anyone_ named Wilson into the room."

"...Nygma?" Will asks. He looks... well, he looks _mostly_ the same. He's still recognizable. But there's not a speck of green on him. Not even a question mark pasted to his forehead. The man's in a sweater vest for fuck's sake.

"Nashton, thank you very much," he says, bustling immediately into one of the other rooms. "Give me five minutes!"

Then he slams the door behind him.

"...What just happened?" Thad asks, looking between everyone. Joey looks amused. Cullen looks distraught.

"Sorry," Cullen says. "Ed gets like that. He's _really_ competitive, so while it's great that we have a whole niche for running _really_ hard rooms if people request it, he also gets a little bit bonkers when any of the Wilson-Wayne's show up. He's _mostly_ okay with Damian and Jason, but Slade and Bruce..." He wobbles his hand. "Not so much."

"What the hell did you just get me into?" Will asks Joey, who grins at him.

_You just have to solve the puzzle. It's timed._

It's timed.

"Have Slade and Bruce run it?"

 _As a pair,_ Joey confirms. _They did it in twenty-three minutes. Only twenty people have ever completed the room inside an hour._

Joey has said the magic words. Will has always been a competitive sort of person, and the chance to kick Bruce _and_ Slade's ass?

"Pairs only," Cullen says.

 _I was going to wait anyway,_ Joey signs. _I already did it with Jason. We barely dragged by at fifty six minutes or something like that._

"Just finishing is good," Cullen reminds them. "You get three hints, and any more than that will knock you off the leader board."

"How many did Bruce and Slade take?"

"...None," Cullen says, and Joey's shoulders shake with laughter at how _blatantly_ transparent Will is being.

"We're going to beat them," Thad says matter of factly. "No question."

"Excellent!" Edward announces as he pops out of the room, obviously full of energy. "You'll be running the same room they ran previously, no tweaks. You shouldn't have to apply any more pressure than a _normal_ human would apply with two fingers. No cutting, breaking, snapping, lifting... Some things are marked with a stop symbol, that means you shouldn't move them and they're not part of the puzzle room."

He rattles off a bunch more rules that Will didn't really need to hear, but Thad nods along anyway. There's a story—something about Sherlock Holmes and a murder mystery—but Will couldn't care less if he tried.

"We start the moment the door closes."

Will steps inside. It's a study, with a wall-to-wall bookshelf packed with books, a few fake skulls, some plants... There's a desk on one side and what looks like a locked cupboard on the other, and the moment the door click's shut, Will's right into action.

"Grab everything, drop it on the desk," Will says. He hunches over, watching as Thad blurs around the room, dropping anything that isn't nailed down on the desk. He can only imagine that it must look like a tornado going through, and as Will starts working through the puzzle components he glances to Thad.

"Check all the shelves. Flip through all the books if you can. One of them probably has something inside."

One of them does. Will's working his way through a second puzzle when something clicks and one of the shelves simply swings open, revealing a second room. Thad blurs inside, and then leans back out.

"A puzzle and a safe. Some of it's stuck down."

Will abandons his current puzzle to head into the room. There's a modified periodic table and a stack of vials on the desk. Under the desk is a small three-digit safe, and by studying the periodic table Will can pick out which differences he should expect. He's got three numbers, and after a bit of tinkering he comes up with an order, punching it in.

The safe gives him an ornate key. There's another, larger safe with three keyholes, and Thad zips around, producing the second key before going right back to the desk as Will pops them into the appropriate keyholes.

He's pretty sure they just skipped half the escape room, and when Thad zips back before Will's even left the side room with a third key in his hand, Will knows they just skipped the whole damn thing.

He pops the third key in the lock, turns the handle, and the safe pops open revealing a _you win_ sign.

"Absolutely not!" Will hears Edward yelling from somewhere else in the building. Will doesn't bother hiding the grin as he saunters right on out of the escape room.

Cullen looks baffled. Joey, on the other hand, is doubled over, shaking with silent laughter. Will's confident that Joey's got tears in his eyes.

"Want to put everything back, Thad?"

"Sure," Thad says, blurring away as Cullen yelps.

"He—you didn't mention _super speed!"_

"That's cheating!" Edward protests as he bursts out of what Will assumes must be the control room. "He has _super speed."_

"He still had to solve it," Will points out. "What's our time?"

Edward huffs.

"Something like five minutes. I didn't count. I didn't hit the timer because _no one should be done that fast!"_

"Except we did," Will says as Thad zips back in.

"Reset!" He announces, and Edward throws his hands in the air.

"No more super speed. Absolutely not."

Thad grins up at him, and Will can't help but think that even if it was only a few minutes, it was still a lot of fun.


	7. Chapter 7

Will takes them out for dinner. They warn the Wilson-Wayne's ahead of time, but that evening it's just the three of them. Joey knows a good place, and Thad says he doesn't have anything in particular he wants, so they end up eating Mexican food at a hole in the wall.

 _This was fun,_ Joey signs. _Maybe I should borrow Thad tomorrow after school?_

"Borrow for what?" Will asks, raising an eyebrow before biting into his taco.

 _Secret,_ Joey says with a wink, before laughing a bit. _Nothing big. I was thinking I could just take him to the mall. Let him pick out some clothes of his own._

"He's got clothes."

 _Clothes he purchased when he was still trying to make sure he passed as Bart,_ Joey points out. _He should have some clothes of his own that reflect his own style._

"Plus I need stuff for cold weather. I don't have enough for the climate up here."

 _Be happy you missed the snow,_ Joey signs. _Then you'd have been really cold._

"I don't like the cold," Thad says, wrinkling his nose. "Some heavier clothes would be better."

_See, pop? They we go. I'll go get Thad some stuff so he has stuff for his room._

Thad having things to move when the manor is finally ready is probably a good idea, so Will shrugs.

"Sure," he says. "I'll just... wander around the hotel all day with nothing to do."

 _Don't sulk,_ Joey says, rolling his eyes. _You can go help Jason or something. Work at a soup kitchen. Anything other than standing around doing nothing._

"Or I could go to the library," Will grumbles. "Get some books. Read books on..." He eyes Thad. "Parenting."

_That's not a bad idea. But if you're ever really bored... Just ask Jason._

Will huffs and lets the subject drop. They get desert and then head back to the hotel. Will is expecting that to be it, but instead he ends up ambushed by Bruce.

"Keep your next week clear," Bruce says when he spots Will on the way to his room.

Will squints at him.

"Bruce, you know I have nothing to do. I have nothing but free time."

"Well good," Bruce says with a sigh, "because Clark wants you up on the ship at some point. He's still working on getting clearances, but you _and_ Thad are being requested."

"Thad has school."

"We're going to work around it," Bruce says. "ARGUS business. The ship has a lot of stuff on it and no one knows what half of it is, and we're... well, running blind."

"And this is waiting until next week?" Will asks, quirking an eyebrow. "Not this weekend?"

"Things aren't exactly moving quickly," Bruce admits. "There's a lot of politics involved. There's... debate over who should have control of the ship."

"Let me guess," Will says dryly. "Every country thinks it should be theirs?"

"More or less. The United States is claiming it as a prize. Some are trying to claim that a space ship doesn't fall under any existing law, while others are trying to claim that war was technically never declared. Clark's beside himself, of course."

Bruce looks _tired._ Downright exhausted. He lets out a sigh, dragging his hand down his face.

"Maybe next week," he says. "Maybe the week after that. Hopefully before the manor is done either way, because I'd prefer to have you and Thad around for move in."

"Do we know when that's going to be?"

"Depends," Bruce says. "I'm hoping we can get it done in a month."

Will can't decide if a month is very fast or very slow. He supposes it's _fast_ by the metrics of building an entirely custom new building, but by the metrics of Bruce? Downright slow.

"Well, looking forward to living in a house," Will says. "Just try not to burn yourself out, alright?"

"No promises," Bruce says with a small smile, and excuses himself to head back to his own room.

Will doesn't end up going to the library. The idea simply doesn't seem appealing to him in the slightest, so instead he sticks around the hotel, screwing around on his tablet. He checks the news (more of the same) and checks the news around Central City for mentions of Bart or Wally. Wally's identity is public, even if he's not formally a member of the League, and it's obvious that he's not having a great time, going out of his way to avoid the media. Bart isn't mentioned, and Will wonders what steps they're taking to keep him out of the press.

Intrigued by Bruce's mention, he goes digging on the matter of the ship and finds plenty of opinion pieces. Some people think the ship should be destroyed and consider it too large of a threat to be allowed to stay standing. Others (who all suspiciously happen to be American) think it should be given to the government. A small minority is of the opinion that it should be Clark's choice.

There's no mention of Kandor, and Will wonders how long it'll be before _that_ comes up as a subject for debate. He suspects it's going to be messy.

He does end up getting called down to the lobby to meet an ARGUS official carrying Thad's ID. Will makes a point of double checking the name's right before he even leaves, but tucks it away, satisfied, when he sees his name.

He ends up spending the afternoon with Damian in his room watching Nature documentaries, leaving Alfred free to go run some errands of his own. They're not terribly interesting, but Damian seems to enjoy them, and he's not allowed to do much else. Slade and Bruce get back first, but Thad and Joey don't arrive back until it's already late, long past dinner.

Will grumbles the whole damn time, waiting for them down by the lobby. He knows there are already a million pictures of him floating around the internet, but he can't quite bring himself to _care._ People are going to look at him no matter what. People are going to gawk. It's normal. Expected. Really, he doesn't see what the big deal is.

He gawks the moment he sees Joey and Thad. Joey, of course, looks perfectly normal (even if he is carrying four bags on one arm).

Thad, on the other hand, is blond, his hair cut _much_ shorter than Will is used to.

"What— _what?"_ Will splutters.

 _Be happy I intercepted his first request,_ Joey signs. Despite Will's confusion, Joey looks to be in a good mood. _He wanted to change his style. Originally he was going for white hair, but I thought blond would suit him better._

So much for the photo on Thad's ID.

Will takes a second to focus, calming himself down before looking past his surprise as he looks Thad over. It's... not a bad look, he supposes. It certainly makes him look distinct from Bart, which he suspects was a large part of the point.

"It's good, right?" Thad says, staring up at him in the most blatant search for approval Will's ever seen.

"Suits you," Will says, reaching down to ruffle Thad's hair. It's a lot less effective now that he's missing most of the volume Will came to expect, but it _does_ suit him better. "Blond like Joey?"

"And you," Thad says. "Joey says you used to blond. He said he'd show me some pictures if I wanted."

 _You should come,_ Joey signs. _I've got a whole album. I thought he might like to see what you used to look like._

"I had one less eye, for one," Will grumbles, but he lets himself go up to Joey's room, settling down in one of the chairs while Joey digs out his laptop.

 _Already scanned and uploaded them,_ he signs once he's done hooking the computer up to the TV. _So I'd have a backup no matter what._

It's a good bit of planning, but Will's having a hard time feeling proud and not just anxious. He knows what's coming, but when he sees it, it still hurts.

Photos of him, younger. Of Grant. of Rose. There's not much of Adeline—Joey's bias is clear—but what little there is is still too much. Wintergreen. Rose and Hosun. Will looks away, registering that Joey's explaining who everyone is to Thad as he watches.

It still hurts.

Then a hand grabs his own, and Will looks up to find Joey and Thad both leaning in, faces pinched with concern.

 _Sorry pop,_ Joey mouths, his hand otherwise occupied.

"You're okay?" Thad asks. He looks alarmed, as if expecting Will to simply keel over at any minute.

"Just don't like... thinking about them. I failed with them, and I'm trying to do better with you two."

Joey pulls him into a hug, and Will leans against them as Thad joins in. It's like being trapped on all sides, but Will doesn't mind it.

He has his boys, and that's all he needs right then.


	8. Chapter 8

Will is expecting another slow day the following morning, but he doesn't get it. When he's still in the bathroom he ends up squinting at his facial hair, wondering if there's a point in keeping it shaved. It's been a few days and he's scruffy, and when push comes to shove Will simply shaves it down to the exact way he always had it before. Even if it's still very similar to the way Slade had it, he doesn't think it matters quite as much as it did before.

Plus, he has a _serious_ case of baby face with the beard gone.

His hair is less of a mess. He tidies it up a bit, but despite the style Joey advocated for, in the end it's simply going back to a shaggier version of what it was before.

Thad's waiting outside his door when Will opens it, and he falters to squint at him before retreating back into his room, watching Thad follow him in.

"I have questions," Thad says.

"Of course you do," Will says. "You also have an ID." He plucks Thad's ID from his desk where he'd left it, holding it out for him to take. "And I already told ARGUS you need a new one. This one's still got you down as a brunette."

"Did you tell them that you need a new one?"

"Didn't have to," Will says. "They were already working on new ones. They wanted a new photo from both of us."

"Should we do that now?"

They do. Will grabs photos of both of them, sending them off to ARGUS before looking up at Thad appraisingly. At the very least the kid doesn't _seem_ nervous, so it can't be that bad, right?

"What's your questions?"

"Well, one of them was _when am I getting an ID,_ so that's crossed off. But I wanted to know why Joey doesn't just talk."

Will... sort of assumed that Thad knew. He pauses, clearing his throat, and then clarifies.

"When he was around your age, he was abducted and a man with a bone to pick with me—"

"I know that stuff," Thad interrupts. "I meant why doesn't he just talk _now?_ He has a speaker that will let him speak without issue, but he still signs even though a lot of people don't know it."

Will has no idea what he's supposed to say. Is that something Thad should be asking Joey, or something he absolutely _shouldn't_ be bringing up to Joey? Inevitably he's forced to just answer it as best he can.

"Can't say I know for sure," he admits. "Probably a comfort thing. Joey's been signing for years and that was the only option he had. The speaker thing is more recent, and it doesn't always worked perfectly."

"Maybe he's worried it could break?" Thad suggests, and Will shrugs in response.

"Maybe? Could be. Not sure if we could fix his stuff if it broke, so that might be an element. Honestly, I never asked. Kind of got the impression it wasn't the sort of thing you asked about."

Thad considers, but eventually nods.

"I just wanted to know," he says. "But I don't think it's a big deal."

"It isn't. We all understand him anyway, and if he's comfortable this way, he's comfortable this way."

"Like you and your arm?"

Will huffs a bit at that.

"Not sure I'd go that far. The arm is... an adjustment."

Thad looks suddenly taken aback, and it's clear he regrets even asking.

"It's fine," Will says. "I'm not bothered. If I was going to be sensitive about the arm, I wouldn't be having this conversation with you now. I'll adjust. I always have."

Thad hesitates, and then nods again.

"Lets go see who's waiting downstairs," Will says, shooing Thad out of his room to close up behind him.

Most people are down at their usual table, but there's also an unexpected face: Dick's working his way through a stack of pancakes so fast it's like he hasn't been fed in a month, and when he spots them he looks up, giving a quick wave.

"Will," he says, "and... Thad, right?"

Thad nods his head, offering his hand. Dick looks at his own hand—complete with maple syrup—and shakes it off.

"I'll have to give you a handshake later," he says. "You don't want to get this mess all over you."

"Just stopping by to visit?" Will asks as he settles in. The staff have served them so many times they don't even need to order, and Will knows they've already got his and Thad's usual breakfast started in the kitchen.

"I was going to take Damian up to the zoo," Dick says. "It's good for him to be outside, even if it means some driving for us."

"Thad should come," Damian says. "He hasn't met Batcow yet."

Will doesn't need to ask if Thad's ever been to a zoo. The answer is _absolutely not,_ and he's not even sure how much he knows about animals. But he's obviously familiar with Batcow from Damian talking about her, and after a moment he glances to Will.

"Will you come?"

"Sure," Will says. "Not like I have anything else to do right now." He's happy for the distraction, and when Joey and Jason arrive, Dick fills them in.

"Sorry, I'm stealing Joey away for an event," Jason says. "It's Wayne Outreach's anniversary party... or it was back when we were in the middle of getting invaded. We had to reschedule."

Jason keeps on talking about the party while Thad leans over, chatting with Joey. Will's only half listening to each conversation, and when the food comes out he's not even doing that much.

"Oh, before I go today, if anyone has any color requests for their rooms, let me know now. I'm making a large order for all the paint we're going to need."

"Hopefully we're keeping to natural wood," Alfred says.

"Mostly wood," Bruce confirms. "But we've still got accent colors. So if you have any..."

A few people do. Will doesn't care, so he doesn't bother putting in a request, trusting that Bruce isn't going to stick him with hot pink or something garish.

"How's it going, anyway?" Jason asks.

"As well as can be expected. We've got multiple crews doing multiple projects, so... there's a lot of coordinating happening."

"Which is where Bruce comes in," Slade says, chuckling under his breath. "Really, it's a miracle they're half as organized as they are with how many people we have working."

"It helps that we have as much help as we do," Bruce says. "The Kents have been invaluable in this whole process. I really can't thank them enough."

"We'll have to host them for dinner when we have a working kitchen," Alfred says. "To celebrate."

"Here's hoping," Bruce says. "We're thinking it should be ready for us to move in during March."

Will sure as hell hopes so.

Joey pulls him aside while Alfred and Thad are getting Damian ready to go.

 _Pop,_ he signs, looking clearly unhappy.

"...What?" Will asks. He's mystified about what Joey's upset over.

_You gave Thad Grant's name?_

"It's his middle name," Will says. He doesn't see the issue.

_Pop, you can't just name everyone after Grant._

"I wanted to honor your brother," Will says. He doesn't see the big deal. "It's a good way of helping him feel included."

_Which is why Rose went by Ravager. That was his name, and you had her using it too._

"I don't see the big deal."

He really, really doesn't, and the unimpressed look Joey gives him is pointed.

 _No, you don't,_ Joey says. _But you should have talked to Thad about it, rather than having him find out he has a middle name from the ID._

"Should I—"

_No, you should absolutely not retract his name. He's attached to it now. It's done. But pop, promise me you aren't going to name anyone or anything else after Grant, alright? It's nice you want to honor him, but... just try_ _—just promise me you won't, alright?_

It feels like an easy promise to give, considering Will can't imagine that he'd have to name anything else, so after a moment he nods.

"But I don't get why this bothers you," Will says, folding his arms across his chest. "I just want to make sure he's not forgotten."

 _Naming your new kid after the old one that died is never going to be a good idea, just for future reference,_ Joey huffs. _Absolutely never. If you don't believe me, ask Bruce or Alfred._

"Not Slade?"

 _Apparently he's just as terrible at naming things as you were,_ Joey signs. _But I'm serious. You aren't in trouble, pop, but... just remember the promise, alright?_

"I'll keep it in mind in case I suddenly find myself parenting any additional children," Will says dryly. "Have fun at your party, alright?"

Will isn't expecting Joey to hug him, but he does anyway, and when Joey does Will wraps his arm around Joey, pulling him closer.

"Love you Joey," he says. "See you tonight, alright?"

Joey has to pull back to sign his own _I love you,_ but when he does so it's with a grin.

 _Have fun at the zoo,_ Joey signs.

"Don't let Damian bring home any more pets," Jason adds over his shoulder.

Damian grumbles from his seat, and Dick lets out a laugh.

"The car's going to be a tight fit," Dick says, "so I think we'll be safe from Damian secretly smuggling Batcow back with us..."


	9. Chapter 9

Thad, he eventually establishes, has never really seen animals. He _knows_ about them because that information would have been strange for Bart not to have, but outside of the pigeons and other animals he'd seen around San Francisco, his experience was close to nothing.

"We're going to fix that," Damian says rather matter of factly. Damian and Thad are settled together in the back seat, while Will rides shotgun in Dick's old car. "We're going to show you _every_ animal."

"Not quite every animal," Dick says as they arrive. "Just a lot of them."

"Enough," Damian says.

Will helps Dick unload Damian's wheelchair despite Damian's protests that he can walk just fine. He probably can, but he's not _supposed_ to, and Will isn't risking someone running into Damian and injuring him. Absolutely not.

Dick handles Damian, touring him around the zoo as Damian narrates the tour, telling Thad all about the animals. Thad seems genuinely interested in them, leaning forward to gawk at every animal they find. Damian isn't allowed in the petting zoo area, so Will gets to go in and pet the overly friendly capybara while Thad ends up petting everything at least once.

A lot of the animals are indoors, and they end up in a too-hot tropical area when Damian stops them with a grin.

"It's you," he says, pointing to a bird on the ground and looking at Thad.

"...I don't get it," Thad says, looking immediately to Will for insight.

"It's a roadrunner," Dick clarifies.

Thad keeps on staring, and it's clear that Dick's explanation has in no way helped him.

"There's an old cartoon. Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. The Coyote wants to eat the bird but he can't catch him, so he keeps making absurd traps, and they always backfire. Slapstick comedy for kids," Will explains.

Thad stares.

"You're just going to have to watch some when we get back," Damian says matter of factly.

"What matters is that they run really fast and say beep beep," Dick says with a grin.

"...Beep beep?" Thad asks. He looks mystified by the entire conversation, and Will drags his hand down his face before ushering them on.

They've just finished visiting Batcow when Dick whistles under his breath, nice and low, and Will immediately scans the area for trouble. He finds it: there's a camera crew that looks to be in the midst of packing up on the other side of the enclosure, and just as Will is starting to beat a hasty retreat, they get spotted. With Damian still in his chair, there's no way to escape without it being _very_ obvious, so Will's forced to silently endure as the reporter bustles over.

He's young, maybe a few years younger than Joey, and he looks like he's just slipped and faceplanted into a pot of gold.

"Mr. Wilson!" He calls, leaving his camera crew in the dust. "I'm sure you don't remember me—"

"I do."

The reporter seems genuinely taken aback, and it takes him a few seconds to recover, suddenly aware of the fact that the entire group—Damian included—appear to be scowling at him.

"You... do?"

"You were on staff during my interview with Miss Vale," Will says, doing his best to be polite... but curt. He doesn't want to invite conversation that isn't wanted.

"Wow," he says. "Impressive that you remembered. I know it probably seems like we're stalking you, but—"

"You're barely past an intern," Will says. "If they were going to send someone to stalk the Wilson-Waynes, they wouldn't have sent you. Let me guess, local interest piece?"

There is a long moment of hesitation, and then the man simply nods.

"Yeah," he admits, scratching at the back of his neck. "A bunch of our reporters are out of town since they evacuated, so we've got a few spots to fill, and they sent me up here. Already got a bunch of footage of me visiting Batcow. But since you're here..."

"Pretend we aren't here," Dick says. "Way easier for everyone."

"A lot of people have been thinking the Teen Titans are dead," the reporter says. "Or that some of them were dead. And you _could_ put those rumors to rest..."

"Absolutely not," Will says. "We're not doing interviews."

"Just one tiny little one? Just a quick one? Think of how good for promotion it would be for the zoo if we could show that members of the Justice League support it."

"We aren't members of the League."

But as fast as he says it, Damian's twisting around in his seat to stare up at Will, and Will lets out a groan.

"Damian—"

"It would be excellent promotion for the zoo."

Thad's been quiet, standing tucked half behind Will, and Will can't decide if it's an intentional choice to remain low profile, or if he's just nervous.

"We aren't—"

"Please?" Damian asks, giving Will his very best attempt at puppy dog eyes. It doesn't work on Will, but it _does_ work on Dick, who turns against him in the snap of someone's fingers.

"I don't think it would be that bad," Dick says. "It's not like it's going out live."

"Your father wouldn't approve."

"What Bruce doesn't know about until it goes public won't hurt him," Dick says with a wink, and Will lets out an exhausted sigh.

"Two questions," Will says.

"Two questions that matter. To promote the zoo we'd want to ask your favorite animals."

"I want to know what the questions are _before_ we're recording."

Despite the fact that there's no way he could have known about the opportunity, the reporter has the questions ready to go immediately.

"I'd want to ask if everyone in the team is doing alright," he says with a glance towards Damian's wheelchair, "and how you'd respond to concerns that the League put children at risk."

"No," Will says. "I'm vetoing the second one."

"It's a question you'll have to face at some point or another—"

"It's a question the _League_ will have to face at some point or another. I'm not a member, and I'm not playing PR for them unsupervised."

The reporter takes a second to come up with a better question, chewing on his lip as he does.

"Can I ask about how you're adjusting to this reality?"

It isn't something about Thad, and Will doesn't actually have any objection to that, so he simply shrugs.

"Sure," he says. "Go for it."

It takes a bit for them to get set up, the majority of which is spent with everyone else trying to figure out what animal they're going to pick. Damian looks like he's having a crisis over the damn thing right up until Dick points out that Batcow is the obvious choice, which resolves it immediately.

There's a whole introductory spiel about the zoo that Will tries to look invested for, and then the reporter looks towards them, holding out the microphone.

"So!" He says, unbearably chipper. "What's your favorite animal at the zoo?"

"Batcow," Damian says immediately.

"Big fan of the tropical fish they've got. If I had more time, I'd probably get an aquarium," Dick adds.

Thad, the sneaky little bastard that he is, grins before responding.

"I like the birds," he says. "The roadrunner was pretty cool."

Will tries not to side-eye him too blatantly.

"What about you?" The reporter asks, looking up at Will, and he realizes he hasn't bothered to think up anything for himself.

"Capybaras," Will says because it's the first thing to pop into his head. "They seem to like me."

"They do," Damian confirms. "Probably because you're so big."

"I imagine the zoo is a pretty relaxing place for you," the reporter says, and Will's left wondering how the hell he's going to segue between the two completely different topics of conversation. "We've heard that things for the Titans have been fairly stressful, and there were rumors that not everyone on the team made it back. Care to comment?"

He absolutely does not, but he does anyway.

"Everyone came back just fine. We had a few injuries, but nothing unexpected in this line of work. Our worst injury is Damian," Will says, his hand falling to rest on Damian's shoulder in what he assumes is a protective fashion. "Who's only in a wheelchair right now out of an overabundance of caution."

"We were told the Titans played an instrumental role in stopping the invasion. Is it true you all went on board the ship?"

It is _absolutely not_ the question they agreed on, and Will's sure that his eye twitches a bit in response. But it's a good question, and Will won't miss a chance to talk up his team.

"It is," Will says. "The team did a great job, and their actions saved a lot of lives. Things could have been much worse without their quick thinking."

"And we all thank them for the hard work they did," the reporter says with an obvious look to Damian. Will realizes that Thad is effectively completely incognito: with his hair dyed and cut and Bart running around in Central City, no one's made the connection.

He's not sure how he feels about that. The reporter wraps up the interview and then offers his hand to Damian, grinning down at him.

"I don't think I expressed this enough, but we really do want to thank you. I live just on the west end of Gotham, so if the ship had gotten any closer, I'd have been homeless."

Will's pretty sure they're all thinking the same thing, but Thad makes no attempt to draw attention to himself, so they let it pass.

"Of course," Damian says. "Can we go see Batcow again?"

Will doesn't bring the subject up until they're done with the zoo and in the car heading back home.

"Thad," Will calls, glancing back towards him. "With your hair changed, everyone's going to assume that Bart's the one who was a member of the Titans. If you want to correct them—"

"I don't." There's a pause, and then Thad clarifies. "I'm fine with Bart getting credit for it. I was on the team under false pretenses, so I don't feel like I should get credit for it anyway."

Damian wrinkles his nose at _false pretenses._

"You were a member of the team," Damian says. "You should get credit."

"I'd rather be able to pass myself off as a normal kid. With blond hair I could pass as Will's real— _biological_ son. No one would have to know I was anything else."

There's an awkward pause.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I didn't mean that you aren't—"

"It's fine," Dick says. "We all know what you meant."

None of them says the word _clone,_ but they're all thinking it.

"Sure," Will says to break the silence. "I'll let the League know that's what you want, so they won't correct if someone says Bart was on the team. You might want to tell the team, though, so they don't contradict you too obviously."

Thad nods, his hands clutching together in his lap, and Will wonders to himself if that's really the right choice.

But it's _Thad's_ choice, and he knows that right then he doesn't get a say in it.


	10. Chapter 10

Dick doesn't end up staying around too long once they get back, but once Damian is safely back with his family he nudges Will, pulling him to the side. It's not terribly discrete, but Will is wary enough about whatever conversation is about to happen that he's just wanting to get it over with.

"I know we haven't exactly gotten to talk much," Dick says, "but I just wanted to say you're doing a good job with Thad. He seems to really like you, and it seems like he's adjusting pretty well."

Will has to pause, trying to process what he just heard.

"...Thanks?" He finally ventures.

"It was mentioned to me through the eternal gossip grapevine that composes this family that you were trying to be parental towards him," Dick says, "and I know you didn't exactly have... uh, great experiences with Joey when he was a kid. So I thought you might want some kind of reassurance."

Will really has no idea how the handle it. He doesn't know if he's supposed to feel happy, or relieved, or what. Inevitable he mostly just feels nothing, but eventually nods.

"Now go show him some Roadrunner cartoons. Get him up to date with Earth culture," Dick says, smacking him on the shoulder with a wink.

He ends up spending a good portion of that evening showing every Roadrunner cartoon he can find. Thad seems to enjoy them, and ends up sprawled out on the floor of Will's room, watching the TV while Will works away on his tablet. He lets the League know about Thad's choice to be _discrete_ about his involvement with the Titans, and then checks the news a bit. It's too soon for the interview to show up, but there's not a preview for it anyway, which Will had expected. 

The next morning when he goes to tell Bruce about the interview, he finds that someone else has beaten him to it.

"I know," Bruce says. "Damian and Dick both told me. They said you handled it just fine, and I've got nothing to worry about."

"Maybe not nothing," Will says. "You should be wary any time anyone in the family speaks to the media. Things can get blown out of proportion."

"I _am_ wary any time anyone speaks to the media," Bruce says, "but cases like this, where it's more organic... they tend to go over better. They feel less manufactured."

"When the public feels you're being disingenuous, they go after you like a shark smelling blood in the water. We'll have to see how the interview plays out when it's aired," Slade says, his eye sliding over to Thad. "So Thad, what's this I hear about you wanting to be stealth?"

"Discrete," Thad corrects. "Obviously I couldn't reasonably hide the fact that I'm living with you, but I think it would be hard for someone to make the connection between myself and Impulse."

"What's happening to the name?" Damian asks. "Are you not going to be Impulse ever again?"

Thad wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

"Impulse, as a name, is dead," he says firmly. "So is Inertia. If... if the Titans do end up coming back, and they want me—"

"We do," Damian interrupts.

"—Then I'll pick a new name then."

"Like Roadrunner," Damian says.

Thad turns to squint at Damian. "...Like Roadrunner."

"I'm just saying it's the perfect name," Damian says. "It coordinates with Robin, Shrike, and Raptor as code names in keeping with our bird theme, but also accurately conveys that speed is your key feature in combat."

Thad looks annoyed, and it's Slade who makes the guess.

"You were also thinking Roadrunner, weren't you?" Slade asks. Thad sinks back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

"I was," he says. "In the hypothetical situation where I end up a superhero again."

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," Will says. He doesn't want Thad getting flustered by the idea of being a superhero when that's still something that's literal months away.

"That would probably be a good idea," Thad says, looking flustered.

Will isn't sure what compels him to say it more than a half hour later. Maybe it's the talk of _hiding identities_ and _being discrete,_ but right as Slade's getting ready to go, Will clears his throat.

"Could we talk?" He says. "Bruce too."

"Do I want to know about what?" Slade asks, but he's already turning away from the door, heading back towards their rooms.

"Can't say in public," Will says. "It isn't... it's not life or death. But it's something you should know."

Maybe it isn't. Will can't decide. Part of him is telling himself that he should take the truth to his grave. Part of him is pointing out that there's a very real chance that Bart or Thad might let it slip without realizing it. _Someone_ needs to explain to Bart that he needs to keep it to himself, and Will is absolutely not that person.

Bruce is still in the room he shares with Slade, and it's the first time Will's been inside. His first impression is how goddamn _big_ it is. The place is gigantic. Will's been in a lot of fancy hotel rooms before in his life, and the room that he's in right then rivals some of the best of them.

Bruce is settled in the living area, and he glances up in confusion at the sight of Slade.

"Weren't you supposed to be leaving?" He asks before his eyes settle on Will. "...Nothing's happened?"

"It's not that kind of thing," Will says. "I just need to tell you and Slade something." The door's already closed, so he doesn't drag things out. "Talking with Thad helped clarify some things for me. One of those was the fact that we— _I_ —misunderstood something about his future."

"His future?" Bruce says, looking confused. "I hadn't really given it much thought. We averted it, didn't we?"

"Don't see how we couldn't. Most of what Thad said in the first place was true, barring a few obvious details, and what Bart said..."

"The future's averted," Will says. "That isn't the issue."

"So what is?" Slade asks. He leans against the wall, arms folding over his chest.

Will's mouth feels dry, but he tries to explain anyway. Even though it feels wrong. Even though he's second guessing himself.

"We misunderstood because Thad did. He was trying to pass himself off as the Resistance, but he didn't know what they knew. Joey was alive in the future."

Slade and Bruce exchange a glance.

"That's good," Bruce says. "Isn't it?"

"No," Slade says, his expression darkening. "If Joey was alive, why would Will have been playing errand boy to Zod?"

"Deathstroke wasn't me," Will says. "Deathstroke was Slade. Sounds like he only ever saw him in armor."

Bruce and Slade exchange another glance.

"I am... unsure of I'm understanding," Bruce says. "What does that change?"

Will is having a hard time coming up with an answer. It means something. It's important to _him._ But how does he explain why? How does he put it into words?

In the end, he can't. He doesn't know how to vocalize it, how to explain the difference. The future is no longer set in stone. It's no longer inevitable.

"I need to get going," Slade says. "If anything comes up, let me know."

Slade excuses himself, and Will suddenly doesn't want to be left along with Bruce. He leaves, desperate to get away, but finds no peace back in his room. He feels... agitated. Frustrated.

Thad seems to recognize as much when he doesn't show up for lunch, knocking at Will's door. When Will opens it, Thad's staring up at him, his face pinched with worry.

"You're alright?"

"Just thinking," Will says. "Wasn't really hungry. You guys ate without me?"

"We ate," Thad says, zipping past Will to sit down inside. "What's bothering you?"

"It's not a kid thing."

"Good thing I'm not a kid."

Will gives Thad his most unimpressed look.

"You're a kid," he says. "This is adult relationship talk."

"You're right," Thad says. "So you should ask Joey."

"I am _absolutely not_ asking Joey—"

Thad's already zipping away, and Will groans, dragging his hand across his face. There's no avoiding it, and when Joey arrives a few minutes later being towed along by Thad, Will thinks he's got his stuff _mostly_ together. He's put his thoughts in order. He can make a half decent case.

 _What's this I hear about you needing to talk to an adult for relationship help?_ Joey signs as he arrives. He looks amused, and when Thad winks and excuses himself, closing the door behind them, Joey actually laughs. _Seemed like he was torn between being worried about you and actively messing with you._

"Seems like more of the latter," Will says. "We don't have to do this... talk if you don't want to."

 _I'm here to help,_ Joey signs, although the fact that he looks like he's about to crack up again doesn't exactly sell the seriousness of the situation. _What's up?_

"Do you know about... about Deathstroke in Thad's timeline?"

 _Oh, so that's what this is about,_ Joey signs. _I know the general idea. We're all dead, Bruce is the only one left, and you worked for Zod to keep him alive. I know you probably have mixed feelings about that pop, but I don't think you need to beat yourself up over something you_ might _have done in a future timeline._

"It's not that," Will says. "Deathstroke wasn't me. Deathstroke was Slade. I was just dead."

Joey's demeanor changes immediately. All of a sudden he's serious, his hands clasping together in his lap as he looks Will over before he finally raises them to sign again.

 _Alright,_ Joey signs. _That's a lot to take in, but I'm not sure I'm following._

Will's thankful that he had a few minutes to put his thoughts together, because it makes the conversation actually palpable. Without it, he's pretty sure he'd have just left.

"I've spent the last few months convinced that, in the future, I cared for Bruce so much that I was willing to betray everyone left for him. Every time Thad would mention a name I'd have to add that to my stack of people who I was apparently willing to betray for him. So finding out that it wasn't me—that it was _Slade's_ moral crisis—changed things. Before I felt like... like there wasn't even a point thinking about it, because inevitably I was going to be that... _in love_ with Bruce."

 _And now it isn't inevitable,_ Joey signs. _Now you have a choice._

"Exactly," Will says. "Now it feels different. Like I could... decide. I could do whatever I want."

 _Which is good,_ Joey signs. _Feeling like something is inescapable is never a good thing. I'm guessing you're having... uh, revelations about it?_

"How do you know where the line is? How do you know what side is what? It was easy with your mother, and nothing's easy about this."

 _Do you find him attractive?_ Joey signs with a wince that makes it clear he knows he's going to regret asking.

"I find them both attractive. Bruce _and_ Slade."

_Do you want to keep being around them?_

"Yes." It's an easy answer.

Joey pauses, lost in thought for a moment, his eyes wandering.

 _If it was just the two of you, I think that would be enough. Then you should ask them. But it's more complicated than that. You'd always have to be a secret, and I'm not sure that's something you or they would be willing to do. But more than that pop..._ He cringes. _I'm not sure you'd be able to move past the feeling that you came second. They're married, and you are... possessive._

"I'm not—"

Joey gives him a long, hard look and Will shuts up. 

_You are, pop,_ Joey signs. _I think you could probably be happy with either of them. I'm just not sure if you could be happy with both of them._

Will reaches up, rubbing at his eyes, and when he lets his hand drop Joey's already ready to add more shit to the pile.

_I think, for now, it's something you should sit on. You have a tendency to act impulsively, and it's better for everyone if you don't. Give yourself time to settle down. Keep things in the back of your mind. Then... think about things when they come up._

He wants what they have, and the feeling of ugly jealousy hurts. He doesn't even know if he wants it with _them,_ but he knows he wants anyway.

Joey reaches forward, pulling him into a hug, and Will lets out a sigh. Joey rubs at his back a bit, and eventually Joey lets them both free.

_I realize the irony of saying this when you just adopted a speedster, but don't rush. Give it time, alright?_

"I'm not going to rush," Will says. "You've convinced me that I'd be better off waiting it out. Waiting to see how it plays out."

Joey pats his shoulder and then stands before looking around the room.

 _Want to come hang out with me and Jason?_ Joey signs. _Alfred and Damian are out, so Thad's sitting down with us talking. Seems like it'd be better than sitting around up here, right?_

"Probably," Will says, standing up and getting ready to head downstairs. "Why don't we go find out?"


	11. Chapter 11

Will wakes up early that morning, feeling slightly more energetic than he Bruce and Slade both look annoyed when he arrives to breakfast, and the fact that _Will_ is there early and still gets beaten to the table doesn't bode well.

"What happened?"

Bruce tosses down one of the hotels complimentary newspapers. The headline is KRYPTONIAN INVADERS TO BE RESETTLED ON EARTH.

"Kandor?" Will asks, flipping through the paper. It is Kandor, he learns quickly, and the details are relatively accurate.

"It's blowing up," Bruce says. "Lois woke us up at four to warn us ahead of time, and we've been in League meetings since then. Clark's back with his family right now, since no one's going to let him deal with the ship until this blows over."

"How much do they know?" Will asks, still skimming.

"Everything," Slade replies, leaning back in his seat. "Whoever their source is, they're obviously connected."

"The League?"

"Not that connected," Bruce says. "They don't call it Kandor by name, but they know we're trying to resettle them on Earth. They're calling it a Kryptonian colony."

"It _is_ a Kryptonian colony," Will says.

"They miss out on the detail that they _aren't_ the Kryptonian invaders," Bruce complains. "They had as much say in the whole thing as the people of Earth did."

"There's not going to be much of a difference to them," Will says. "Humans are panicky creatures. They're afraid of things that are different from them, and right now Clark should be happy that the Earth still sees him as one of theirs, rather than the Kryptonian he is."

Bruce gives him a deeply unimpressed look.

"How very Deathstroke of you," Slade says, but it's clear from his tone he doesn't actually disagree. "It's going to need some tact to get through this next bit, so Clark's going to be doing some more hero work and hopefully he can stay in everyone's good graces."

"Hopefully he takes that well," Will says. He doesn't have high expectations. It's the type of high stakes, high stress situation that he doubts anyone would do well with, least of all Clark. "What's the League doing about it?"

"Going public, for one. We were already planning to go public, just... not for a few weeks.," Bruce sighs. "So we're rushing it out the door to hopefully prevent this from getting even worse."

Will doesn't envy Bruce at all. The whole thing is a nightmare, so he opts to suffer the way they all are by claiming a corner of the kitchen and trying to make lunch.

It goes as terribly the second time as it did the first. His knife work is excellent, but he needs something to hold down anything he wants to cut. His stump is too high up to be used, so half the time he ends up impaling whatever he wants to cut before getting to work. _Everything_ is just three times as much work, and the hobby he used to enjoy is effectively completely out.

He still serves lunch, but it's almost thirty minutes late by the time he arrives with food for Damian and Alfred.

"You're unhappy," Damian observes.

"I am," Will says. No point trying to hide it. "Was hoping I could get back to cooking to kill some time, but it's not working out."

"I'm sure Master Bruce could invest in some devices to provide assistance," Alfred says. "Wayne Enterprises has quite the number of them—they branched out into assistive technology shortly after Barbara was first paralyzed."

"Good for them," Will says. "Guess I'm going to the library after this."

The library isn't as bad as he first thought, and no one bothers him when he grabs a book (a memoir about a recent war) and settles down in the corner to read it. He gets a bit of everything the first day, picking through the books while Thad's at school. The next day he watches the League press conference with Alfred and Damian before departing, but he finds himself largely unimpressed. It's nothing new, and he's not sure it's going to be enough.

There's protests on the fourth day, and when Clark arrives on Friday, he looks dispirited.

"Are they not back yet?" He asks, looking around. Thad's already back, settled in at the table they've effectively claimed as theirs, but Will's sure that isn't who he means.

"Bruce went to the house to check on their progress," Will says. "Slade's already there."

"Any idea when they'll be back?" Clark asks. He looks... distressed. Almost unwell, if it were possible for him to actually feel unwell.

"Nope," Will says. "Take a seat, Clark."

"I've got a lot to do."

"I agree with Will," Alfred says. "You should take a seat and rest. I'll fetch you some tea."

Clark looks like he's considering protesting, but finally sinks down into an empty seat. Damian looks alarmed, frowning in Clark's direction.

"Jon said you weren't doing well," he says, "but I didn't realize the degree to which he meant it."

"It's just been stressful," Clark admits. "We've got an alien spaceship sitting near the north pole, almost entirely untouched because I'm going to cause a political incident if I do anything with it. We've got who knows how many people sitting in a jar, trapped and unable to communicate, and my cousin from another dimension is off trying to save a _literal child_ from prison."

Will supposes that it _is_ a lot when he puts it that way.

"You've been in touch with Kara?"

"She's being allowed to stay on Oa while things are handled. However, the guardians are refusing to let Lor-Zod leave until Kandor is ready. He's a child, but they feel that having him on Earth is too great a risk with so few people able to stop him."

"Can't say I disagree," Will says. "If he went rogue, a lot of people would be in danger. I know you probably don't want to hear it, but... waiting's the right choice."

Clark groans, leaning back in his seat.

"You're right of course. I should be focusing on things at home. I feel like my family hasn't even seen me."

"They haven't," Damian says. "Nor have we. You should visit more often, even if you're only visiting a hotel."

"How's the house coming?" Clark asks, as if he doesn't see it every time he flies home.

"The frame is complete," Alfred says, setting Clark's tea down for him. "Having multiple teams allows for more to get done, but also makes the question of how things are going more complex. We had some difficulties getting some supplies on such short notice, but we managed to work around that with your father's assistance."

"Not the boys?" Clark asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Your father had a connection which allowed us to make up for what we were missing," Alfred says, and Clark seems to glow with pride.

"Have to admit I was worried about them," Clark says. "They spent their whole lives in Smallville, but they've done a pretty good job adjusting. Helps that they dote on the boys so much..."

They talk about lighter subjects during the time it takes for Slade and Bruce to get back, at which point the three excuse themselves for _League discussion._ Clark promises to send Jon over more often, and both Thad and Damian seem eager for that. When Jon comes the next day, he comes with a new set of video games and manages to convince Damian and Thad to play along with him.

That Monday, Damian finally gets cleared to start walking around with _strict_ instructions to take it slowly. Will ends up fielding a call the same day, and has to pull Thad out of school to drive up to Jersey City.

"Couldn't this have waited until tomorrow?" Thad complains as they drive.

"It was only an hour early," Will says. "I wanted to avoid sitting in rush hour. But it's good you like school."

"It isn't so bad," Thad says. He hasn't mentioned any friends from school, but he seems to protest a whole lot less as he gets used to it.

Villain's waiting for them near the entrance, and walks them up to his lab. He seems to be taking things quite seriously as he starts taking samples from both of them, refusing to give any results until he's done.

"We're a bit early, but Thad has a few more shots we can do since his biology operates at an increased rate. I have both of your new IDs in my office, and if you'll wait a bit I can give you some preliminary results."

He gets them their IDs (Will looks irritated, while Thad's got a big smile in his) and then makes them sit in the hallway while he goes over the data. It takes longer than Will expected—they end up waiting nearly an hour—and then he finally pulls them in.

"There's good news and bad news," he says, and Will's dreading the _which do you want first_ when Villain goes right ahead to explain. "Thad's health appears consistent with the data I got from Wally's doctor. Standard speedster physiology, but no sign of increased aging that we believed might be an issue."

"We did?" Will says, glancing between the two of them.

"Thad was speed-grown, so there were concerns that would continue. Obviously not, however. He should be just fine."

Which means the bad news is about him.

"Will is okay, right?" Thad asks, clearly having the exact same thought as he leans forward in his seat.

"More than alright," Villain says, tossing the paper in his hand down on his desk. "The serum was apparently considered too destructive for your body to accept it. Your regeneration simply nullified it."

Which means he hasn't been aging for the last month. It's only a month, but it still feels like a frustrating setback.

"How do we fix it?"

"I'm already working on a solution," Villain says. "I think we have a workaround that should avoid the issue."

"And every month—"

"I understand your frustration," Villain says. "That said, now that we have a better understanding of what we're looking for and that this is an issue, we've set things up so that we'll be able to test within a week. That should speed up the process considerably for you."

Villain steeples his fingers, looking Will over.

"Have you given though to a whole-arm transplant?"

Will hadn't, because it wasn't even on the table until thirty seconds before, but he's always been good at thinking on his feet.

"I have concerns about finding a suitable match. If it were even a bit shorter or longer..."

"Which means you're open to it," Villain says. "Excellent. I'll look for suitable candidates, but I have to say that it may take a few months to find one. The more exact a match, the harder it will be to find, and _whole arm donation_ isn't exactly something with a registry."

The mental image of Villain creeping around morgues measuring arm sizes is one that Will funds hilarious, even if he probably shouldn't.

"So you're going to get a new arm?" Thad asks, perking up considerably.

"We're going to look into it," Will says.

As willing as he was to stab himself in the neck with the serum at the time, it's hard not to see it as a rash decision made in the heat of the moment. Having one arm is significantly more frustrating than having one eye ever was, and the idea of being able to fix things is a happy one.

When Will tells everyone the serum failed over dinner, he's clearly not the only one with the same thought.

"Oh thank god," Bruce mutters under his breath. "Please tell me you're getting a new arm."

"You've been miserable," Slade says.

"Villain is going to find him an arm," Thad says helpfully. "We just have to wait for the right size to show up."

 _Hopefully sooner rather than later,_ Joey signs. _I know you're anxious about the aging thing._ He pauses, fixing Will with a hard stare. _But until it's sorted out, you need to keep your regeneration on, pop._

"I learned my lesson," Will says. "I'm handling things carefully. Thinking things through."

 _Who knew you were capable?_ Joey signs with a wink, and Jason elbows him.

"Harsh," Jason says. "He's doing pretty good."

Joey leans over, ruffling Will's hair the way Will always ruffles _his._

 _He knows I'm kidding,_ he signs. _I'm proud of how much he's improved. So hopefully Villain finds an arm fast._

Will's hoping for that too.


	12. Chapter 12

For the most part, Will spends his days in the library. He reads a lot, working his way through anything that even halfway interests him, and then leaves in time to get back to the hotel to meet Thad.

They watch movies together. Thad still likes the Roadrunner cartoons, but to the surprise of absolutely no one he also ends up loving Lilo and Stitch. Joey gets him started on the complete Disney catalog, and Will is just happy that Joey has something to keep him occupied.

He doesn't _need_ to, but he ends up having another therapy session anyway. It's less productive than he'd like, but Murillo seems particularly interested in his thought process regarding his regeneration.

"While I can understand the desire to ensure your own son doesn't age past you," she says, "you do seem to have issues with making impulsive decisions, for good or ill."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Will says, even though he absolutely does.

"Your decision to come to this universe, your decision to pursue Bruce Wayne, your—"

"I get it," Will says. "How do I stop it, then?"

"Be mindful," Murillo says. "You've already taken steps, so I'd like to formalize them. When you have to make a decision, stop yourself before you make it. You've said you think fast, so use that time to think through some questions. What decision am I about to make? Why am I making it? What are the possible consequences for all possible options?"

Will's never had it laid out for him, so he makes a mental note of each question.

"The exact questions don't matter so much as the fact that you think things through," Murillo says. "That you give things the appropriate thought. If you're still having issues, consider counting to ten."

Will huffs a little laugh, and Murillo raises an eyebrow.

"Just realized that I'm getting all this advice... and it's my _kid_ who's the one with super speed."

"The irony was not lost on me," Murillo says. "Just keep it in mind, alright?"

He does. Will takes Thad to visit (and meet) Thomas the following day. The two get along, but obviously don't have much in common. Thomas seems more interested in talking to Bruce, and while Will doesn't _regret_ making sure Thad has met Damian's grandfather, he's not exactly planning any future trips, either.

Bruce takes them all to the house that afternoon, walking them through the building... or the first floor of it, anyway.

"Three stories," Bruce explains. "It simply wasn't plausible to build all the rooms I wanted with just one or two. We're upgrading our soundproofing to avoid any... unnecessary noises coming through. The security's going to be built directly into the house rather than added after the fact, and—"

"Tell me about the wifi," Jason says. _"Woo_ me."

"Integrated into the house. We've got it set up so we can upgrade it without issue down the line, but we should be set for at least a decade," Slade says, looking deeply happy with the new state of affairs. "Smart house, using Wayne Enterprises own developments. You'll be able to page any room in the house, security is top of the line..."

"Tell me about Titus and Portia," Damian says. Bruce and Slade exchange a grin.

"Your room has a build in cat tree—modular, of course—and Titus has a small room of his own for you to keep all of his toys, his food dish... everything he needs," Bruce says.

"We've made sure the speakers are compatible with your implant," Slade says to Joey. "When everything is set up, you should be able to walk freely through the house, and it'll change where you're broadcasting too as you walk."

"In theory," Bruce says. "We're going to need to do some testing, since you have the only model, obviously."

 _Happy to help,_ Joey signs. _All I really need is a nice big bed._

"I've designed the house to try and anticipate the families needs... and then some. We decided to keep the day-night wing concept, but expand on it. Upstairs is family space. Downstairs is public. So we have a guest wing downstairs, but also the two bedroom wings upstairs, complete with extra rooms in case anyone decides to... expand."

It's that exact moment that Will realizes Thad hasn't been mentioned, and he catches Slade's eye, jerking his eyes down towards him.

"One of the plans we had for the grounds is a forest trail that could be used as a running track," Slade says smoothly. "I'm not sure how bad you are, Thad, but I know it's a common thing for speedsters to want to run to burn off energy."

Thad perks up immediately, as if there was any question about him staying there.

"If anyone has any requests, though," Bruce adds, "now is the time. We're still in the early phases, and right now _most_ things can still be changed... or tweaked."

"I assume a gym and sparring area is included," Will says.

"Of course," Bruce says. "And an expansive kitchen. Walk in pantry. A wine cellar closet."

Excessive, but then Bruce always is.

The building does look good though. It's going up in record speed, and Will's relieved by the idea. He wants to have moved in. He wants to be out of the damned hotel.

Really, he wants a lot of things. His arm back. A working serum. The list goes on and on, and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he's not really used to wanting. He's always lived a fairly light lifestyle, not getting caught up in details or needs, and then he needs... well, he needs too damned much.

They end up having dinner at the Kent house. Everyone's there, which makes for a _very_ packed meal, but it's nice to have people around. Thad seems far more comfortable interacting with the rest of Jon's family now that he's more friendly with Jon himself, and doesn't hesitate to let himself get towed off to Jon's room so Jon can show him something or other.

He knows Clark's been spending more time around Metropolis, and it seems like he's relaxed a lot in the week since his visit. He's more willing to have conversations, and doesn't look like he's about to pass out at any moment.

"We're looking forward to having you as our neighbors again," Lois says with a smile as the adults enjoy drinks. "It's been quiet without you. All the boys have commented on it."

"Blue's been handling the forest path while Damian's been away," Martha says. "He really does love being out there in the woods. I think he'd stay out there if he had a choice. Just live in the woods."

"We could always build a tree house," Jonathan says. 

"Don't encourage him," Lois says with a laugh. "We have a hard enough time keeping track of all of them normally. If Blue goes off to hide in the woods I'll never be able to keep up."

By the time it's go back to the hotel, Will feels far more relaxed than he has in a while. Seeing the house has done a lot for him, and the idea of having to wait a few more weeks before he can move in doesn't seem nearly as unbearable as it did before.


	13. Chapter 13

The calm lasts until Sunday, when Will wakes up at five in the morning to someone knocking on his door. He sits upright, already ready to go, and then registers that while he's in a strange place, he _isn't_ on a job and drags himself out of bed.

It's Bruce standing outside, already dressed.

"Clark just got clearance to go into the Kryptonian ship. He's already down in the lobby, but I told him I'd get you and Thad."

"Ikon suit?" Will asks, already heading back towards the bathroom.

"Ikon suit, no sword. We're not expecting any fights, but environmental dangers are a risk."

Will's down in the lobby and ready to go in under ten minutes, and half of that is spent making sure the ikon suit holds up. The sleeves been shorn through by Non's heat vision, and while he has the glove, he still hasn't bothered to do any real repairs. Inevitably he just patches it up, wondering to himself if the suit is technically better than it was _before_ he lost his arm now that the shield covers everything.

Thad arrives in a modified version of his old Teen Titans armor, and Will raises an eyebrow. It's clearly new, and he has no idea where it came from until he glances to Bruce, who shrugs.

"I was already working on armor upgrades for the team when they disbanded. He might as well get some use out of it."

"Not very Roadrunner-esque," Will notes, looking it over. It's really just the same uniform he was wearing before, and Will wonders if Bruce is already coming up with something new to make him fit in more with the rest of the Bats.

"Are we flying, or taking the Clark?" Will asks, jerking his thumb towards the anxious looking Clark standing by the windows.

"Those sound like the same thing," Thad says, glancing between Clark and the rest. Clark turns, obviously having heard them, and heads over.

"There's a high likelihood you'll be bringing things back," Bruce says. "I've already prepared the Batwing for you. I assume you know how to fly a jet?"

"I know how to—" Thad starts, before Bruce raises an eyebrow and he corrects. "Oh, you were talking to Will."

"I can fly it. Where are you keeping it, though? It's not already in the cave?"

"It's at the airport," Bruce says, cracking a smile. "That's one of the perks of being public... I can store my toys in full view of everyone."

Clark ends up ferrying them to the ship, and to Will's great amusement, riding along with them. While he could easily fly up himself, he's not supposed to go in alone, and so he opts to do the sensible thing and nap for the hour and a half it takes for them to fly north.

Thad, on the other hand, does not. He zips around the small ship, a bundle of energy, his excitement clear.

"Settle down," Will reminds him more than once. "This isn't an adventure. It's a fact finding mission."

"Sounds like an adventure," Thad says, and shows no signs of slowing down.

Will expects to have to wake Clark when they get closer, but he has no trouble finding where to go. The Kryptonian ship sticks out like a sore thumb, impossible to miss from the air and no doubt even harder to miss by land. It's gigantic, effectively a mountain in its own right, and he has a harder time locating what he assumes is the ARGUS base camp. The only reason he does is because it's dark enough for him to spot the lights, descending down to park the Batwing on the ice as Clark jerks awake.

"Alright," Clark says, adjusting his suit, "come meet the crew."

 _The crew_ turns out to be a team of four ARGUS scientists and their two guards. Will suspects that if the ship were literally anywhere else it would have a hundred times that much security, but so far from civilization there's simply no way for anyone to _accidentally_ stumble upon the ship. The head of security is a man named Gunn, who shakes Will's hand and seems interested primarily in getting things over with.

While Will's used to dealing with the people in charge of security, it's one of the scientists who briefs them.

"Welcome back, Mr. Kent," a tall man says as he refers to a stack of paperwork. "I understand you just got clearing from the UN to investigate the ship?"

"Preliminary fact finding mission," Clark says. "I've got twenty-four hours and we already burned seven of them getting here. After midnight—Eastern time—I'm supposed to leave the ship be."

"Unfortunate," the tall man says, glancing to Will and Thad. "My name is Doctor Balewa. I've been in charge of this site since it was first turned over to ARGUS control, but we've been unfortunately hamstrung by bureaucracy. We've been able to do some external measurements and testing on the crystal that makes up the ship. Beyond that? We've been sitting here making up new card games."

"What's our priority?" Thad asks, doing his best to be the picture of professionalism.

"The most important thing you could find is a way for us to communicate with the occupants of Kandor. We've tried handling things from our end, but had difficulties. A way to... shrink and resize a single person. To connect to them. Anything that would allow us to negotiate with them _before_ we drop them on Earth would be ideal."

"Secondary priorities?" Will asks.

"Get a better understanding of the ship. Find whatever is the most dangerous on board and mark it on a map for us," Balewa says. "Eventually, in theory, we'll be going in ourselves and investigating. While the three of you might have... attributes which would make you difficult to hurt, the same isn't true for us."

"I can make a map," Thad says. "But the configuration has changed around to allow it to land, so I'd need to update it after the fact."

"Any map is better than no map," Clark says. "For this first trip we're going to stay close together, no splitting up. While I've scanned the ship and there's no one on board, that doesn't mean Zod doesn't have security in place. If anything happens, Thad—"

"You want me to run," Thad guesses, and Clark nods.

"Your safety comes first. Everything else is secondary to that."

Thad obviously doesn't agree with Clark's assessment, but he nods anyway.

"He'll be fine," Will says. "Lets get going. The longer we wait out here, the less time we have in there."

Thad's circling the ship for an entrance when Clark leans over, clearing his throat and obviously working himself up for a conversation that he doesn't want to have.

"Thank you for coming," Clark says, which is a good start. "I'm not sure how much Bruce and Slade have told you about the politics of this mission, but... this is probably the last chance for Kandor to be resized on Earth. If we can't find a way to communicate with them, there's basically no chance it'll be approved. Then it'll be..."

Clark trails off, staring into space. 

"Then they'll have to be handed over to the Lanterns," Will says, "to be resized on another planet."

Clark nods.

"Clark, be realistic here. Would that really be such a bad thing? There's a lot of potential downsides to resizing them on earth, and the only downside to resizing them elsewhere is that you've got a longer commute if you want to go visit."

"I suppose you're right," Clark admits, hesitating for a moment. "I just... was very excited when I learned there were others. That I might have extended family there. I wanted to... learn more about Kryptonian culture. I had a lot of hopes riding on being able to easily visit, and if they're way off in space..."

He hesitates for a long moment, and then shakes his head.

"I was just hoping my boys would get to know about the world they were from."

Will can't relate. The last thing Will wanted was for his kids to know _anything_ about their heritage.

"Found it," Thad says, speeding to a stop in front of them. "It's kind of in a weird place because the bottom side flipped up, but it's not too hard to get to. Will's pretty sure he's lying. There's no reason Thad, operating at super speed, would take so long for him to find a simple door. The far more likely answer is that he saw Will and Clark talking and decided to wait for them to be finished before he returned.

Which will appreciates.

"Alright," Clark says, lifting off the ground, his cape billowing out behind him. "Lets go dig through that ship."


	14. Chapter 14

The entrance to the ship isn't far, and the door's already opened by the time they get there. Thad leads the way, heading into the ship like he knows the place... because he does. He walks with a purpose, like he clearly knows where he's going, but every so often he has to stop, gawking at the hallways as he tries to get his bearings.

"Is it that different?" Clark asks, floating just behind them. He seems almost wary about touching the ground for reasons Will doesn't bother trying to figure out.

"It's just rearranged. Like if someone took all the rooms in the Teen Titans base and shuffled them around. When I look in, I know what I'm looking at, but I still have to open the door."

"So what are we looking for?" Will asks. "Command center?"

"I know where that is, at least," Clark says. "It's where I piloted the ship from. Hard to miss, since it's visible from the outside."

"You want the armory," Thad says. "The armory contains not just weapons, but any significantly advanced technology."

"Was that where Kandor was kept?"

"That was the vault, which was for Kandor only," Thad explains. "The vault is that way, and the armory is that way." He points down specific hallways, his understanding of the ships layout obviously growing by the second.

"What else is on here?" Clark asks. "There has to be more than just those three rooms."

"Living areas, of course," Thad says. "This ship can quarter up to a hundred Kryptonians comfortably."

"I wouldn't object to rifling through Zod's room," Will says. "I wouldn't put it past him to hide some goods from the rest."

"Armory first," Clark says. "If we have time, we can check his quarters."

The armory turns out to be a much larger space than Will was expecting. It's the size of a school gym, with racks and racks of weapons and armor taking up much of the room.

"They would be useless to humans," Thad explains before they can even ask. "These ones were made with yellow suns in mind, but those ones over there could potentially be worn by humans."

Clark clearly doesn't like the idea of any of it, and avoids that part of the room entirely as he heads for the far end of the room. There's extra security there, as well as an opaque wall closing a section of the room off.

"How do we open it?" Clark asks, and Thad grins, punching in a code on a discrete keypad. The door pops open immediately, and Will raises an eyebrow.

"Alright," he says. "I'll bite. Why do you know all of these codes? There's no reason for you to know any of this." If Thad was supposed to die in the manor when the Kryptonian's attacked, there's no explanation for why he'd be able to get into the ship. The idea's been bothering Will since the invasion, but there was never a reason to specifically ask.

"If I didn't die in the invasion, I was supposed to come here and turn myself over to the general," Thad replies. "While it was a secondary objective, they assured I'd have all the information I could possibly need in order to aid them... or at least as much as they could cram into me before I was sent back. I also know the locations and layouts for most human military installations. Even the secret ones."

Will grunts.

"Why don't we keep that detail to ourselves," he says, glancing to Clark, who looks taken aback for a moment before he nods.

The room has a _lot_ in it. It's smaller than the first room, less expansive, and the shelves on the walls are littered with what looks like _everything._ Some of it Will recognizes, and some of it is completely, for lack of a better word, alien. There's staves and knives and all sorts of weaponry on one wall, and Will spends the first ten seconds trying to convince his brain not to go into panic mode.

"Don't touch anything," Will says. "At least half of this stuff is lethal. Some of it might even be lethal to _you,_ Clark."

There's a quiver of Qwa-bolts hanging on the wall, a set of disks that look similar to the ones Mister Miracle used, and a whole pack of what Will assumes are energy weapons... But for everything he recognizes, there's three more whose purpose he can only guess at.

"What's this?" Thad asks, and Will turns to him. There's a display case on the far wall, and Will turns, heading over to look.

"That... is a person," Clark says, alarmed. "They're in cold sleep. No heartbeat..."

For about thirty seconds, Will thinks Clark is right. The man inside the capsule looks like a Kryptonian for the most part, tall and broad with black hair and physical features that don't look far off Zod himself. The most obvious sign that he's not a standard Kryptonian is his skin, a shade of dark blue-grey that doesn't look particularly natural.

And then, maybe thirty seconds after laying eyes on the guy, Will realizes what he's looking at. He throws his arms up, keeping Thad and Clark from getting any closer, and wheels backwards.

"Do _not_ touch that," he says.

"What are we looking at?" Clark asks. "Are they not a Kryptonian?"

"They're blue," Thad points out helpfully.

"I'm pretty sure that's a goddamn _Eradicator,"_ Will says.

"...I'm assuming by the name they're not friendly?" Clark says, looking to Thad.

"Don't know," Thad says with a shrug. "The system would probably have more information, but it's not like I know what everything in here does. I only know the stuff I've used, or the stuff that's been used."

"And our blue friend here doesn't get used?" Clark asks.

"Zod would have wanted humans left alive," Will guesses. "So they'd never have activated it. The one on our Earth... I don't know all the details, really. I know it tries to protect Kryptonian culture at all cost. The one on my world pretended to be you during a brief period when you were... almost dead and recovering."

"I'm not sure how that could have passed as me," Clark says, leaning closer.

"Most people aren't going to look past the powers," Will says. "I'd assume it could make itself not... blue." But Clark's right: the one he remembers looked a whole lot more like Clark, and this one doesn't. The bone structure's off from what he remembers.

"Doesn't really matter, I guess," Clark says. "We have no reason to wake it up, so lets leave it."

They spend the next thirty minutes going through the room. There's a lot of stuff Will is tempted to simply smuggle out, but he knows Bruce and Slade would never forgive him if he did, so he leaves them in place. Thad works on a map while Clark indexes what they have, but nothing appears to be a real solution to their problem.

"Alright," Clark says. "We've checked everything obvious. But just because we don't recognize it doesn't mean we don't have a solution handy. The question is... how do we figure out what would let us interact with Kandor?"

"Maybe one of the serving bots could help?" Thad suggests, and Clark and Will look at him simultaneously.

"...The serving bots?"

"Kryptonian service robots. There's probably one or two in the general's quarters. I can't imagine anyone else would be high enough rank to warrant them," Thad says.

"Elaborate for someone who hasn't dealt with... Kryptonian service robots," Clark says.

"The answer's in the name," Thad says. "They're small service robots. They provide aid, but only the noble families had them."

"Are they... sapient?" Clark asks, obviously choosing his words carefully.

"They're intelligent," Thad says, "but I... don't think they're really sapient the way you've said. They can't go past their programming. They're literally built the way they are and can't deviate from it."

"Doesn't really answer the question," Will says, "but we'll deal with that when we can. You think they might be able to give us an answer?"

"They're linked to the ship's systems. It's a good first step."

No one has any better systems, so they end up doubling back, heading down into the living quarters part of the ship. Despite the cold outside, the ship is perfectly comfortable to walk around in, although slightly eerie with how deserted the whole place is. It's the kind of place that feels like it _should_ have traps. Maybe robot security. But they continue on unmolested until they stop in front of an ornate looking door that sticks out from the rest.

Clark goes first, letting himself into the room. It's the captain's quarters, so it's large and ornate, with plenty of room for Zod to raise his family in. There's a number of bedrooms branching off, but the most obvious thing is the dormant robot sitting in the corner of the room. It begins to move the moment they step inside, lifting to hover just off the floor as it approaches them.

Then it says something in Kryptonian that Will only knows enough to recognize the language of.

"Oh no," Clark mumbles under his breath. "I don't—"

Thad responds _in Kryptonian_ and Will abruptly makes a connection.

"You understand Kryptonian?!" Clark asks. Will doesn't need to ask. He can already guess why.

"It's my first language," Thad says. "Most of my instruction was in Kryptonian before they made sure I would be able to communicate in English. But it says we don't have access rights."

"Because we aren't Zod," Clark sighs. "How do we _get_ access rights?"

Thad fidgets, obviously not wanting to answer, and Will makes a guess.

"Assuming the robot isn't going to stop us—"

"It isn't."

"We should check through Zod's room and see if we can't find anything that might let us do that."

Zod's room is easy to find, the largest of the lot and decorated in a way that just _screams_ Zod, all blacks and reds and far too dark for the light overall tone of the ship. There's a massive bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, and they each take a different part of the room. Will doesn't even feel bad as he rifles through Zod's things, searching for anything that might be even slightly useful to them.

The robot simply hovers nearby, making no movement towards stopping them. Will was expecting something more along the lines of a thinking and feeling android, but the robot seems like little more than a glorified smart home device with arms.

Will's halfway done digging through Zod's sock drawer when he decides to actually _think_ about what he's doing, glancing to Clark.

"Is there any part of the room that's hidden from your x-ray vision?"

Clark goes pink, clearly embarrassed at having not thought of it before, and then turns to scan the room, stopping abruptly.

"Back of the wardrobe."

It's effectively a safe, which tells Will that whatever he's going to find inside is probably going to be worth it. The trick is getting _inside._

"Should I...?" Clark asks, glancing to Will.

"It's going to be strong enough to resist your abilities," Will says. "Otherwise, anyone on board could get in. There's probably a card key or a pass-code or something..."

"A bit of crystal he had on him," Thad says. Will can't tell if it's a guess, but it doesn't matter: there isn't a chance in hell that Zod is stupid enough to leave a sticky note with the password to his ultra secret safe lying around. Will has to give him more credit than that.

"Alright," Will says when he's done inspecting the mostly featureless safe. "Thad, you're up."

"Me?" Thad asks, looking alarmed. "Why me?"

"We've been working on vibrating through things for months. Now's the time."

"Did you forget I never managed to do it successfully?" Thad asks. "I couldn't even get through paper, how am I supposed to get through a safe?"

"You don't have to get through," Will points out. "You just need to get far enough in to screw it up."

Thad's never been hurt by his attempts to vibrate through things before. Every time he fails, he ends up effectively being spit out by whatever he was trying to go through. Right then, Will's hoping to use that to their advantage.

It isn't a fast process. It takes the better part of an hour for Thad to succeed, repeatedly vibrating his hand against the safe. Sometimes his fingers start to slip in before being popped back out, but eventually when he pops out the safe door swings open with his hand. Thad looks exhausted, and Will produces some energy gels for them, passing them over for Thad to desperately wolf down.

"Hungry," he admits. "I'm going to need to eat before doing that again."

"Hopefully you don't have to," Clark says, digging through the safe. There's some files, a stack of what looks like family photos, and a gunmetal grey box about the size of a bread box. Clark passes the files over to Thad, unable to read them and obviously frustrated by that fact, flips through the photos, and then grabs the box.

"Any ideas?"

"It's a box," Will says dryly. "Not sure how you'd expect me to figure out what's inside. Thad?"

Thad glances up, then shrugs.

"No idea," he says. "I've never seen it before. It might just be his personal things?"

"Or it could be pass-codes. What are the files?"

"Some of this is blackmail on his crew. Personnel files. Nothing here is useful, and none of it really helps us..." Will reaches over, resting his hand on Thad's shoulder, and gives him a reassuring squeeze.

"It was worth a shot," he says.

"It could still be in here, you know," Clark says, shaking the box. "No one interested?"

Will doesn't really have high expectations of it. He doubts it's going to be anything particularly useful. The rest of the safe is a bust, and considering what the safe appears to be used for, it's more likely that he's going to stumble onto Zod's fetish supplies than he is something useful.

The box has a complicated series of latches, and opening the first box reveals... another box, the same as the first but smaller. The latches are on the opposite side though, and Will makes a point of pulling Thad back so that Clark's the only one in the line of fire.

"He wanted it secure, all right," Clark says as he works the box open. "I tried looking with my vision, but... it just kind of looks like a lump."

"A lump."

"Well, more like a brick. A block. I think it might be a lead-lined box?"

"Boxes in boxes in boxes," Thad mumbles at Will's side.

It isn't another box. It is, in fact, a block of golden colored metal that Clark holds up in confusion. He doesn't get it, and Thad doesn't get it, but Will _immediately_ recognizes it.

"I know what that is," he says. "That's nth metal."

"Which is...?" Clark asks, confused.

"Assuming everything's the same between dimensions... extremely rare. _Insanely_ rare and nearly impossible to work with. A belt of it could let you fly. But it also makes you stronger, faster... you can make weapons out of it..."

"Extremely potent metal that gives you superpowers," Clark says. "I can see why Zod would want it... and why he'd keep it to his personal quarters. You think any of his men knew he had it?"

"I doubt it," Thad says. "I think I'd have heard of it, and I... haven't."

"Do we leave it here?" Clark asks. "We're allowed to bring things back to be appropriately cataloged, and this seems like the sort of thing that would be the best example of what could be gained from alien technology. Letting people fly... enhanced abilities..."

"Bring it," Will says. "What's our next step?"

"Probably..." Thad hesitates. "Probably accessing the main system. I could... if I updated things..." Will can't decide if Thad's nervous or uncomfortable or both, but after a moment he reaches out, resting his hand on Thad's shoulder again.

Thad goes quiet, his shoulders sinking, and Will takes a guess.

 _"This_ is why you could get on board," Will says. "To update the system?" Thad mentioned _turning himself over to the General,_ but the implications are a bit different there. "Is it going to hurt you?"

Thad hesitates, then shakes his head.

"I'm like... a hard drive. To store all the data. The ship should be able to... to download it from me. Then it would be able to speak English, and it would probably succeed full control to Clark. Winner's rights."

Will has a whole load of concerns about _that,_ but after a quick glance exchanged with Clark he sighs.

"You don't have to do this," Will tells Thad. "If you want to leave right now—"

"I don't," Thad says. "I can do this. It was what I was _made_ for."

"People don't have things they're made for. People are just _made,"_ Will says. He wishes he wasn't having that kind of serious conversation in front of Clark, but there's not exactly time to ask for a pause. "I know it probably doesn't sound really convincing, but... you don't have to do anything, alright?"

"I want to," Thad says. "It would help Kandor." The _and that would help Clark_ goes unspoken.

"...Alright," Will says. "But if you need to stop—"

"I'll be fine," Thad says. "Let's go, alright?"


	15. Chapter 15

It's easy to find the command center, and even easier to find what Thad plans to use. It's effectively a glorified helmet pulled out of a cabinet. It looks retrofitted onto the ship, and Thad actually confirms that exact thought.

"It's similar to what Braniac used," Thad explains. "Pretty much the same thing, really. They took a lot of his technology to use, and this was one of those things."

The helmet goes as far as the command chair and Will suspects is meant to be used in it, but Thad sits down in one of the other seats instead, pulling the helmet on. He starts speaking in Kryptonian, giving instructions to the computer, and the more he does the more agitated Will gets. He doesn't like it. It feels... risky.

"It only reads my thoughts," Thad says. "It can't... insert thoughts or anything. Or hurt me. Just reading." For a moment Will thinks Thad's somehow reading his mind, and then realizes he's just being that transparent in his expressions. He's gotten in the habit of actually _showing_ what he feels rather than keeping them to himself, and he's regretting it right then.

"Just get it over with," Will says, and Thad stares at him for a moment.

"I did," he says, pulling the helmet off. "It doesn't take long."

The whole thing is so anticlimactic that it takes Will a second to recover.

"...So what changed?" Clark asks, glancing around as if he's expecting to find a new door or access panel or something.

"The ship knows that Zod lost," Thad says. "And... pretty much everything else I know. So it should accept your commands directly." He's looking at Clark, who frowns.

"I could already pilot it."

"But you only had limited access," Thad says. "If you sit in the command chair, you should have better control now than you did before."

Clark gives Will a concerned look, and then clears his throat.

"Alright," he says. "Just... guide me through things. You said it'll understand English?"

"It should," Thad confirms. "You might have to order it to swap to English."

Clark hands the nth metal block to Will so he has his hands free, and Will stands just behind him, looking over his shoulder as he settles into the command chair, the screens in front of him popping to life.

Will doesn't really get a chance to focus on what Clark's doing. A few seconds after he gets the brick, Will looks down to find that the brick is... no longer a brick.

Crap.

The nth metal is effectively melting in place, no longer a solid brick as it starts to flow up Will's arm.

"Clark," Will says, voice calm and even. He's trying to avoid panicking anyone, but it doesn't matter, because Thad starts panicking immediately.

"Will!" He yelps, zipping over, and Clark jerks his arm away before Thad can touch him. "But it's—"

"It's fine," Will says firmly, doing what he can to sound convincing. "We just need to watch what it's doing. I've had... my old armor was nth metal." Which is his best guess for why it's suddenly reacting to _him_ and not Clark. He's dealt with nth metal before, and he does what he can to keep his breathing even as it flows up his arm, spreading across his chest and slowly forming what looks like a breastplate. Clark's half-sitting in the seat, frozen in place as he watches it go, and when the metal settles in place, he sinks back down into the seat with a sigh.

"That was... alarming," he says. "What _was_ that?"

Will reaches up, rapping his knuckles against the metal, and then shrugs.

"I used to wear nth metal. I assume it was reacting to that... somehow. Nth metal tends to recognize other nth metal for some reason." He'd been happy to be rid of the suit when he got a chance, and it was for this _exact_ reason: alien shit doesn't play by Earth rules, and Will _really_ prefers Earth rules.

"So what do we do, exactly?" Clark asks, squinting at the armor like he expects it to attack at any moment.

"Nothing," Will says. "We leave it on, and when we leave the ship I'll see if I can't pry it off without injuring myself." His suit was a _suit_ of an alloy that _contained_ nth metal, and it didn't do the whole shape-shifting thing the way the block just did. It makes the whole thing infinitely more tricky to deal with, and makes things a lot less certain.

"We should go back," Clark says. "Until that's dealt with—"

"Clark, it's not hurting me. If anything, it'll do a great job of keeping someone else from stabbing me. Now ask the damned computer if it can solve our problems."

Clark sighs and settles back in his seat, resting his hands on the arms of the chair.

"Computer," he says hesitantly. "Does the ship have a way to communicate with Kandor?"

The ship starts responding in a robotic voice, but Clark interrupts.

"English, please."

"This ship does not have the capacity to enable communication with Kandor. The recommended course of action is to use Brainiac's technology to restore Kandor to it's original size once an appropriate location has been identified," the ship says.

Clark groans, sagging into the command chair.

"Command not recognized," the computer says.

Clark turns to Will and shrugs, clearly at a loss for words.

"Computer, is there anything on board that could be considered a threat to humanity if left as is?"

He's not expecting the computer to answer him (really, he figures Clark's going to have to repeat everything he says), but it does without hesitation, apparently having classed him as a user or whatever the hell Clark is thought of as.

"No."

"Well, that's a relief," Clark says. "We—" Clark freezes, going perfectly still, and then leaps into action. "Computer, is anyone else on board?"

"No."

"Something just moved," Clark says. "A door—"

"Computer, is something approaching the command room?" Clark barks, signalling for Thad to fall behind him. Thad zips into place as Clark surges out of the chair, putting himself in front of Will and Thad right as the computer answers.

"Active Eradicator unit is approaching," it says a moment too late, the door to the command room sliding open to reveal a very, _very_ active Eradicator framed in the doorway.


	16. Chapter 16

Will is a professional. He's been dealing with crisis situations since he was seventeen, and right then is no different. He doesn't have his sword, but he _does_ have his suit, and the addition of the nth metal is a suddenly welcome addition as it springs to life, flowing down his arm to produce his sword. It's not actually _his_ sword, but it sure as hell looks like it, and it's clear enough to Will that the metal is responding to his desires.

But he'll have to think about it later. The Eradicator drifts forward at an almost leisurely pace, giving Will a better view of what they're dealing with. The suit its wearing is identical to the ones that Zod's men were wearing, with the most obvious difference being the yellow visor across its eyes. Its expression is blank, but the fact that it's hovering with glowing red eyes does _not_ bode well.

"Thad," Clark says quietly. "The moment you get a chance, run. Get as far away as possible."

"I'm not leaving you," Thad whispers back as Eradicator observes the room. It doesn't appear to be in any hurry to blast them, which Will is counting as a _very_ good thing. He's processing everything he knew about the Eradicator as fast as possible, but there's not a ton to work with.

"Standard Kryptonian powers," Will says.

"Android?" Clark asks, and the Eradicator cocks its head, observing. It's hard to tell what its looking at, the red of his eyes lacking anything close to a pupil, but it's still also _very_ obvious that its doing what it can to get a read on the situation. Looking for weaknesses, if Will had to guess.

"Not really," Will says. "Basically a person with a computer brain."

"Great," Clark mutters.

"Step aside," the Eradicator says. The voice sounds normal enough, and Will wishes it didn't. If it sounded more like a computer, he's pretty sure Clark would be more willing to take the damn thing's head off.

"That's going to be a no," Clark says, holding his ground.

"I have no business with a failed child of Krypton."

Clark's hands ball into fists. Will can't decide if the Eradicator is speaking entirely off the cuff, or if its choice of words were specifically chosen to slam right into Clark's weak points. Considering the connection Eradicator has to the ship, it could just as likely be either. Thad could have guessed Clark would be sensitive...

Will has to make himself stop thinking about it. He has to stay in the moment, because he knows things are liable to blow up at any moment.

"Hold on," Will says, catching what he missed. "You don't want Clark?"

"I have no business with a failed child of Krypton," the Eradicator repeats.

Will isn't following. Thad nudges his back, and Will tries to clarify. "What are you after?"

The Eradicator still hasn't swung. Will keeps waiting for it, but it still hasn't happened. 

"I will retrieve Project Inertia."

Not even Clark can stop Will from stepping forward, leveling his sword at the Eradicator's face.

"He has a name. You're going to use it, or I'm taking your head off."

"Will—" Clark starts.

"Cram it, farm boy," Will snaps. "His name is _Thad,_ and if you mention him again you're going to goddamn use it."

He doesn't want to turn around. He knows how bothered Thad is by that shit, and hearing himself be called _Project Inertia_ all over again has to be a body check to his self esteem. Will's _mad,_ and right then he's looking for an excuse to use the goddamn nth metal sword.

The Eradicator apparently doesn't blink, but it's hard not to get that _exact_ kind of vibe from it.

"I will retrieve Project Thad."

"He's not—" Will makes a strangled noise and tries to pull himself together. "Whatever the hell you want with him, you aren't getting it. So you can go right back into your pod."

"I will not," Eradicator states. "Project Thad is the last creation of Krypton and must be preserved at all costs."

Will swears he can hear the record scratch.

"What?" Clark chokes. "He isn't— _What?"_

There's maybe a dozen things wrong with that one short sentence, but Will focuses on what is most immediately relevant right then.

"What do you mean by _preserved?"_

"Project Thad must be kept away from danger in order to ensure that he can pass his knowledge on to the people of Kandor when they are returned to an appropriate size."

"It's... just Thad," Thad says, leaning out from behind Clark and Will. "I'm not a project."

Even without pupils, it's obvious that the Eradicator's attention is on Thad from the moment he appears.

"You are a project," the Eradicator says. "You are the culmination of all known Kryptonian engineering, designed for this purpose. It has been more than thirty Earth years since the destruction of Krypton, and longer still since the removal of Kandor. Kandorian culture will have forked from original Kryptonian culture, and original Kryptonian culture must be preserved at all costs."

"And... that's me?" Thad asks, sounding just as mystified as Will feels.

"Correct," the Eradicator says. "The house of El can no longer be considered a representation of an authentic Kryptonian noble house, having been raised in Earth culture. The house of Zod can no longer be considered a representation of an authentic Kryptonian noble house due to their extreme actions in defiance of Kryptonian law. No original Kryptonian noble houses remain." He rattles it all off, clinical and direct. Clark looks torn between relieved that he hasn't started blasting and offended that he's effectively been declared _unnecessary._

"Ah," Will says quietly. Clark glances at him, but Will doesn't elaborate. It's obvious that Thad's _update_ to the ship's systems has had effects beyond what they'd planned, the most obvious being the awakening of the Eradicator. But they're not all bad: the Eradicator's desire to protect Thad seems directly tied in to the information it has gathered from Thad himself.

Which is why Zod doesn't count. But at the same time, it's clear that Zod's thoughts have rubbed off on Thad: he doubts Thad came up with the idea that Kandorian and Kryptonian culture would have deviated on his own. That _reeks_ of Zod.

"So, hold on," Clark says. "You're going to _protect_ Thad?"

"By any means necessary."

"You say that a lot," Clark says dryly. "Thad isn't in any danger. He's living a perfectly normal life. He doesn't need a... protector."

"He must be preserved."

Will doesn't think there's a point to what Clark's doing. The Eradicator isn't nearly as robotic as the service robots, but he isn't quite _human_ either. 

"Would your duties be equivalent to a bodyguard?" Will asks, snapping the question out.

"Yes."

"Hold on," Clark chokes. "He's not going to play bodyguard to Thad. He needs to go back in his pod."

"Good luck convincing him," Will snorts. "Are you really willing to try and force him back in?"

Clark hesitates, suddenly seeing the problem they're facing. The Eradicator is effectively a fully fledged Kryptonian, and they don't have any equipment that would let them deal with him. Their only choice would be a full out brawl, which would risk destroying the ship and quite possibly even more.

"How are we going to explain this to the League?" Clark says. "The nth metal, and now this... How—"

"This works out perfectly," Will says, flipping his hand around. The sword appears to melt in his hand, flowing back up his arm to reform the breastplate. "I bet Eradicator here has a full understanding of everything in the weapons vault, doesn't he?"

"Yes," the Eradicator says, and Clark lets out a sigh.

"At least we have that. Do you have a way to communicate with Kandor?"

"No."

Clark drags a hand down his face, and Thad inches out a bit farther from behind Will. The Eradicator is clearly paying the most attention to Thad, but when prompted, turns away, heading back towards the weapons vault.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Will says.

"I wouldn't," Clark says under his breath, "only I'm pretty sure this is a gift wolf."


	17. Chapter 17

Will keeps expecting trouble, but it doesn't really come. They head back to the armory and start going through things. When it becomes obvious that the Eradicator can identify not just what everything is, but also what it does and other important details, Will produces a tablet and starts punching all the information in. When he can't keep up, Thad ends up taking over, blowing through the information bit by bit. They catalog everything in the room, take inventory of everything outside, and then do a quick search of the rest of the ship to make sure they haven't missed anything.

It hasn't even been four hours since the Eradicator joined them and they're just _done._

"That's it," Clark says. He doesn't look relaxed, or even particularly happy about the progress they've made. He's spent the entire time keeping an eye on the Eradicator, and he isn't the only one. Will's been wary too, making a point of keeping himself between the robot and Thad. The Eradicator hasn't really done anything, though, simply floated nearby, a largely silent guardian. "So what do we do now?" He adds, glancing between Will and Thad.

"Go get some food," Thad says. He's looking tired, having eaten through Will's stash of treats, and Will knows Thad is going to need some food in him before long.

"We call it here," Will says with a shrug. "We've done what we could. There was nothing to help Kandor, but we have other things that can still be useful." They've got an energy source that might be replicatable on Earth, and that _alone_ is groundbreaking. It should be enough, but it clearly isn't for Clark, who's looking at the Eradicator warily.

"What are we doing about him?"

"I will accompany Thad to ensure his safety," the Eradicator says without missing a beat.

"He's going to be just fine," Will says. "I'm already keeping him safe."

"Insufficient."

Will's eye twitches, and Clark steps in to intervene.

"That would be a problem," he says desperately. "You couldn't pass as human, and you'd draw a lot of negative attention towards Thad. That would be... bad for his development."

Clark obviously thinks it's a home run as far as logic goes, but Will isn't convinced. Just like he expects, the Eradicator has an answer for that.

"That will not be an issue. My biology allows me to pass as a human."

There're several moments where everyone is just staring at the Eradicator, waiting for him to demonstrate, and when he doesn't, Clark clears his throat.

"Care to show us? We'll be going outside soon, and seeing you as a human would be... much better."

The shift isn't instant. Will can watch as the Eradicator's skin begins to shift, pale patches appearing on his dark blue-grey skin and starting to spread. The whole thing takes a good thirty seconds, which ends with the robot in front of them looking vaguely Caucasian.

Except for the _glowing red eyes._

"Yeah, no," Will says. "You aren't going to pass like that. Humans don't do glowing red eyes."

"They are an important defensive weapon," the Eradicator explains. There's not really any tone to his voice, but it's hard not to get the impression that he's explaining something that he considers very simplistic. "It is important that I be ready to defend Thad at a moment's notice."

"Thad could point blank dodge heat vision. Anything coming at him is going to have to be faster than you can fire to be a risk to him," Will says. "You having your eyes constantly charging up isn't going to help."

The revelation that the Eradicator's spent the entire time _charging up his heat vision to cut them in half_ isn't a comfortable one. Will still doesn't know how the ikon shield might hold up against it, and he sure as hell doesn't want to find out.

"People would think you were a threat," Thad says. "Which might put me in danger."

The Eradicator's eyes stop glowing almost immediately. Without the constant glow, Will has to admit that he could pass as a human (or Kryptonian). He's got more than a passing resemblance to Zod and his family, with black hair and steely grey eyes. Considering he's dressed in the same gear as Zod's men, Will can only assume that's going to be everyone's first impression.

"Alright," Will says. "What's our plan, before we go out there?"

"He was a Kryptonian captive?" Clark suggests. "If he was on ice, he couldn't be held accountable..."

"That cover is going to be blown the moment he opens his mouth," Will points out. "He can pass as a Kryptonian in terms of _looks,_ but he's not going to pass verbally. I can't believe I'm saying this, but honesty might very well be the best policy."

"You don't think ARGUS is going to have an issue with that?" Clark asks, sounding exasperated.

"I'm going to be blunt with you here, Clark. What the hell can they do about it? Sideline a guy who's supposed to be on the level of a Kryptonian? Especially one that isn't actually doing anyone any harm..."

"The political situation is delicate," Clark argues. "Having a killer robot who can pass himself of as a Kryptonian could make things... it could make things a lot worse. I'm just trying to be prepared."

Thad shifts nervously, and then clears his throat.

"I know this is probably a problem," he says, and Will gets the impression that he's trying to be very, _very_ careful with his choice of words. "To make it up to you I could probably teach you stuff about Krypton? About... the language and culture and stuff. So that when Kandor comes back, you could talk to them."

None of Thad's offer really changes anything. It doesn't stop them from having to explain things to Bruce and Slade, or to the League. But the offer makes Clark's expression soften, and he lets out a sigh, his shoulders sagging.

"Sorry," he says, running his fingers through his hair. "I know I got a bit heated there. I'm just... worried about how this might effect my family. I'd love to learn what you have to share, Thad." He pauses, then reaches down, resting a hand on Thad's shoulder and giving it a little squeeze as Thad beams up at him.

"Alright," Will says. "We're going to be direct, explain things honestly, and deal with things as they come. Simple enough."

It's not going to be even _slightly_ simple, but a man can hope, can't he?


	18. Chapter 18

The head of security is _not_ having a good time. He looks alarmed from the moment he spots _four_ of them, leveling his weapon for a half second before dropping it down to point at the floor, letting out a frustrated grunt.

"Who am I kidding?" He mutters, half to himself. "It's not going to do anything."

"It isn't," Will says. Clark's convinced the Eradicator to stop floating, but the net result only serves to make him look even _less_ human. The Eradicator is clearly not used to walking, and his gait looks awkward and robotic. Gunn is staring at the Eradicator warily, and Will can't blame him.

"Let's get inside and get some food in Thad," Clark says. "He's starving, and I'm feeling a bit peckish too."

There's a small pop up structure that serves as the team's living quarters, and they're ushered inside while someone else reheats the stew they had made. Everyone at camp makes a point of being in the room, gawking openly at the android in their midst. Balewa seems more focused on the breastplate Will's wearing, but keeps his questions to herself while they eat.

"Does... does he want one?" One of the scientists asks, glancing down at the empty bowl.

Thad looks up at the Eradicator, considering. "Do you eat?"

"I require nutrition in order to continue operating."

"That's a yes," Will says with a snort, and the scientist doles out another bowl of stew, sliding it over. There's not enough cutlery, so Will simply drinks the stew straight from the bowl, and everyone else does the same.

The moment they're finished, Balewa folds his arms across his chest.

"Alright," he says. "You brought... a Kryptonian and a gold breastplate...?"

"He's not a Kryptonian," Will says. "He's basically a robot."

"A... robot. He looks completely natural."

"While I began my existence as a mechanical entity, I was deemed to be unfit for service when compared to a Kryptonian empowered by a yellow sun. In order to allow me to remain useful, I was transferred into a bio-synthetic body based on Kryptonian genes, specifically designed for that purpose. The process was similar to the one used to clone Thad, although his was significantly more refined."

Every time the Eradicator says Thad's name it seems painfully out of place, and Will wishes he'd introduced himself as Thaddeus so it stuck out less.

"So you're... a computer in a flesh and blood body?" One of the scientists asks.

"Incorrect. I am an artificial program in a biological brain."

"So a Kryptonian in every way but mentally," Balewa says. "Fascinating."

"He's decided to guard Thad," Will says, sliding his bowl to the side. "Which means he's going to have to come with us."

Balewa wobbles his head back and forth, weighing out the pros and cons.

"Well, I can't stop you," he finally says. "And I'd argue that he's effectively a... a _being_ rather than a _thing._ We're supposed to be investigating the ship and the objects inside, and since he's alive, he isn't counted under our mission statement. That, on the other hand..." He eyes the breastplate with obvious suspicion.

"Nth metal," he says. "Rare. Valuable. Makes you stronger, faster... Regenerative possibilities, even flight."

"And you decided to put it on," a scientist says, clearly unimpressed.

"It put itself on, actually," Clark says. "We were going to bring it out as an example. It was fine when I held it, but when Will held it, it... reformed into that."

"On its own?"

"Nth metal shapes itself to what the wielder desires," Will clarifies. "I wore a suit with nth metal in it before I came here, and I think it was reacting to that."

"Can you get it off?" Balewa asks.

Will reaches out, holding his hand flat, and tries to will the nth metal to go back to brick form. It moves, sliding down his arm, but then simply reforms as a bracer on his forearm rather than actually reaching his hand.

"That's a no," Will says. Which isn't entirely true. He can't be sure if he can't get the nth metal off, or if the nth metal is simply playing 4D chess and _knows_ he doesn't actually want to get rid of it. Even if it's entirely selfish, it's killing him to give up the _absurdly powerful metal that could let him fly._

So he simply isn't.

"We'll have to take notes," Balewa says. "Make sure it's appropriately documented. What else was on board?"

The tablet is produced, the details explained. As irritated as Balewa seemed to be about everything with the Eradicator and the nth metal, they seem downright ecstatic about what they're being given after Clark and Thad are done.

"So what happens now?" Clark asks, glancing around.

"We have what we need," Balewa says. "You leave things to us, and we'll work on documenting the more... mundane parts of the ship. Clothing, food choices... I'm sure there's plenty we can discover."

"And hopefully they'll bring a better heater!" One of the scientists says, which elicits a round of laughter from those gathered.

There's some more work to do—Balewa insists on photographing the nth metal in multiple forms—and then it's back to the Batwing. Will's happy to be out of the cold, herding Thad on board and watching as the Eradicator simply floats on behind him. He's hovering near Thad protectively right up until the point where Thad tells him he needs to buckle in, at which point he does, but not before informing Thad that _in the event of a crash, he would not be hurt anyway._

"Last question before we take off," Will says. "Are we warning them, or are we showing up with him in tow and explaining when we get there?"

"I'm not sure this is something that can be explained, but... I'll contact the League while we fly and let them know the... general idea."

"We should call him Era," Thad says. He's relaxed significantly, and he's already got his phone in his lap, ready to play with during the fight. "Eradicator is... not a good name. Era is nice and short, and it sounds normal."

"Era isn't a normal name, Thad," Will says.

"It's a normal Kryptonian name," Thad says. "So no one would bat an eye, right?"

"Kryptonian names are fairly short," Clark says. "All the ones I know... Lor, Dru, Kal... Era would fit right in."

"Era then," Will says. He handles the Batwing, taking off carefully, and then sets it into autopilot. The plane effectively flies itself, which gives him time to stand up, head back towards Thad, and look down at him, raising an eyebrow.

"We need to talk," Will says. "There's a private room in the back."

Thad goes stiff, and the Eradicator simply _stands up,_ tearing the seat belt in the process, his eyes flaring red.

"No!" Thad yelps, unbuckling himself and standing. "You don't hurt Will. Not ever. You don't... you don't need to hurt anyone. I can take care of myself, alright?"

"Thad must be protected from harm."

"I get that," Will says. "But he isn't in any danger from me, so you need to sit down and wait. I need to have a talk with _my son."_ Will can feel the nth metal ripple against his arm, ready to lash out or shield him as needed, and he's _really_ hoping he doesn't break Bruce's nice plane.

The red fades out of the Eradicator's eyes.

"I understand," he says. "I will remain on guard."

Will and Thad start to leave for the small private room near the back of the plane, only to have the Eradicator start after them. Will pauses, leveling a glare, and when the Eradicator doesn't clarify on his own, insists on an answer.

"You need to stay here."

"I will guard outside the room."

Will makes himself exhale, reminding himself that the Eradicator literally _can't_ know better, and then ushers Thad into the back room, closing the door behind him.


	19. Chapter 19

Will reaches over once the door is closed, touching a switch and letting the Batwing do its work. There's a _beep_ and his ears pop, and it takes a second for him to adjust. The room's fitted with what amounts to a white noise generator, keeping anyone outside from listening in and being able to follow the conversation. It's all but mandatory with so many superhumans around, and Will's never been so happy for Bruce's paranoia.

"Sit," he says, gesturing to one of the seats. Thad looks nervous, sinking down into the seat, his hands clasping together in his lap as he fidgets.

He looks like a kid who's about to get in trouble, which he might very well be.

"Alright," Will says. "This is your chance to come clean _before_ I have to drag the truth out of you."

Thad fidgets at super speed, his gestures blurring together as it becomes obvious he's trying to decide if he should confess. Finally he settles down, staring up at Will, and Will's biggest regret is that he can't cross his arms to look appropriately authoritative.

The nth metal, of course, obliges. It flows up his arm, across his chest, and down the stump, extending out in a nearly exact replica of Will's old arm. It even _moves_ like Will's old arm, and after a second of confusion Will flexes his fingers, watching the gold metal move. The fact that Thad's in trouble is temporarily forgotten in favor of both of them gawking at the arm, and Will sighs after a second, shaking out the hand.

"Okay," he says after a second, "well, that's kind of what I was hoping it would do. Now I just have to figure out how to make it stick that way. But that doesn't change what we were talking about."

He folds his arms across his chest and does what he can to look appropriately serious again.

When Thad doesn't confess, Will applies some pressure.

"I know you lied."

Will doesn't _actually_ know Thad lied. He simply suspects it. There's a lot of evidence leaning towards Thad having lied, enough that he's willing to take the risk of being wrong.

It pays off. Thad collapses like a house of cards. He looks a moment away from crying, and Will doesn't want to think about what the Eradicator would do if he saw _that._

"I didn't mean to wake him up," Thad blurts, his words coming so close together that they start to blur. "I thought that Clark might wantmearound if I could help him withKryptonianstuff, and I—"

Will reaches out, resting his hands on Thad's shoulders, and Thad bursts into tears. Will's never been happier to have two arms, because it lets him actually respond properly, pulling Thad into a hug in his lap. He looks terrified, and Will's relieved that he actually knows _why._

"So you downloaded everything the ship knew about into your brain," Will says. "Which woke the Eradicator up."

It had never sat right with him that the Eradicator would be so focused on Thad rather than Kandor. Kandor was the obvious solution, the obvious answer. Protecting _them_ should have fulfilled the Eradicator's stated prime directive.

Unless Thad was somehow _better._ Unless Thad was a living library, aware of every bit of Kryptonian culture that a massive Kryptonian warship had on hand and then some. And even more than the ship itself, capable of _spreading_ that knowledge.

And there was no reason that Zod would _ever_ invest that kind of knowledge in a human body.

Thad knowing Kryptonian made sense.

Thad knowing Kryptonian naming customs did _not_ make sense.

Which really left only one option.

Thad nods his head against him, confirming Will's suspicion. Confirming that when he'd said _it can't insert thoughts_ he was lying his ass off. The biggest thing Will was unsure about was whether it was accidental, but Thad's _I wanted to help Clark_ confirms that it wasn't.

"I understand you were trying to help," Will says. "But I don't think you understand how much you were playing with fire. You could have been hurt or worse." A whole hell of a lot worse.

Thad only cries harder, and Will sighs, rubbing at his back. It's going to take a bit of time for Thad to calm down, so he simply focuses on helping him through it, churning through the lecture he's going to have to do in his head.

When Thad finally stops crying and pulls away to wipe at his eyes, Will gives him a much, much abridged lecture.

"You're taking risks," he says. "Risks you shouldn't be taking. But we'll address that when we get back to the hotel. Until then, we're going to have to figure out how to handle the Eradicator—"

"Era," Thad says. "That's his name now."

"How to handle Era together, alright?"

Thad nods his head, wiping at his eyes again, and Will pulls him into another hug. Hugs seem to help him calm down, and it's not like they _hurt._ Thad seems to thrive when receiving physical affection, and Will isn't going to deny him that just because he's in trouble.

"Okay," Thad says, his voice whisper quiet, and Will leans down, pecking him on the forehead.

"...Now, remember to tell your guard robot that he doesn't need to blast me for making you cry, alright?" Will says, and Thad cracks a smile. Then he reaches up, resting his hand against Will's left arm.

"Could you always do that? Is that why you wanted the nth metal?"

Will withdraws his arm, shaking out his hand, and then shrugs.

"Who knows?" Will says. "I can feel what it's doing just like with my own arm, so that's a perk. The trick's probably going to be getting it to _stay_ like that."

The last thing he needs is his arm constantly changing form. He needs... well, he needs for it to stay an arm. There's no telling what the nth metal is going to do when he stops actively using it, after all. For all he knows it's going to just turn into a puddle the moment he goes to sleep, and getting _that_ under control is going to be a nightmare.

They return maybe a half hour after they've left to find both Era and Clark staring at them. Will reaches back inside, cutting the room's white noise generators, and then closes the door behind them.

"...Everything alright?" Clark says. Thad seems to be thinking ahead, darting ahead to handle Era in quiet Kryptonian while Will handles Clark.

"Fine," he says. "Just had to sort some stuff out with Thad. Did you talk to Bruce?"

"I talked to the whole League," Clark says, clearing his throat. "Are you going to address the elephant in the room...?"

It takes Will a few seconds to realize what Clark is even talking about, and then raises his left fist.

"Oh, this? Did it when I went into a hug. I'm going to have a bit of learning curve with it, but I'll make do."

Clark gives him a look that makes Will pretty sure Clark suspects that he wasn't being _entirely_ honest about not being able to give it back, but doesn't actually comment, instead shifting the conversation back.

"Bruce and Slade are already at the hotel, waiting for us to get back. Diana, Jonn, and Steve are on their way as well. Obviously, everyone else is going to just phone in as needed, but they're leaving this all to those of us who are nearby to handle." His eyes shift over towards Era, who is right back to looming protectively over Thad as he returns to his seat.

But Will isn't getting blasted by any heat-vision, so he supposes that's a win anyway.


	20. Chapter 20

Slade's waiting for them when they land, leaned up against the side of a car. Immediately, the problem becomes apparent: there's no way they're _all_ going to fit into one car.

Which turns out to be a non issue, because Clark sees the trouble coming and simply leaves, taking off to fly back to the hotel on his own.

Slade, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow at the whole group.

"You brought home an almost Kryptonian... and a new arm. Nice look, Will."

"The arm only exists because he wanted to hug me," Thad says excitedly, zipping down off the plane as Will grabs their stuff. They didn't bring much, but Thad appears to have completely forgotten the emergency supplies they packed in case of emergency.

Era is silent, observing Slade as if trying to decide if he's a threat to Thad, and Will ignores Era in turn, heading for the car and pulling the back open.

"No flying in Gotham City limits while you look like that," Slade says to Era. "You're going to give someone a heart attack."

Era absolutely would. He looks identical to the Kryptonian invaders who _everyone_ has seen pictures of. Really, he'd have fit right in with Zod's entire army.

"That means you have to get in the car," Thad says, patting the seat beside him.

Era does, looking excruciatingly awkward while he does so, and Thad insists he put on a seat-belt even though he doesn't need it. Slade raises an eyebrow at Will, who climbs in the passenger seat, ignoring the raised eyebrows.

He already knows he's going to have to explain it, and he sure as hell isn't going to explain the damn thing _twice._

Slade takes them back to the hotel, with Era sitting in silence. Thad chatters away like they've been gone for weeks, refusing to let silence rule the car on the way back to the hotel. The moment they arrive, they get herded directly into the entrance and down a hallway to one of the rentable conference rooms where the rest of the League (or those who are coming, anyway) are waiting.

"It's a good thing you warned me," Diana says immediately. "Or I can't imagine how I'd have reacted to seeing someone wearing that."

"He's going to need some new clothes, obviously," Will grumbles. "He can't go around looking like that."

"Why don't you sit down and explain what's going on," Bruce says, his eyes falling to Will's arm. The rest of the League settles in, and Thad and Era sit down, but Will remains standing, pacing just behind Era and Thad.

"So, starting with the arm because that's easier," he says, holding his left arm up and flexing the fingers. "This is a substance known as nth metal. I only know what I knew about it from my world, but generally speaking it's from space, it's really powerful, and it responds to thought."

He attempts to make it return to sword form, but the metal doesn't budge. _Thinking_ instructions at it simply doesn't work, and he can't quite muster up the energy to trick it into doing something else. After a moment he simply shakes out his hand, letting it drop to its side.

"It responds to what I want. I wanted a sword, it became a sword. I wanted an arm... it became an arm."

"Can you feel through it?" Diana asks, perplexed. "Or is it just metal...?"

"It is what I need it to be. I couldn't feel through it as a sword, but I can as an arm. Feels just like my old arm. Little bit lighter, but I can adjust." It would have felt awful going from arm to the nth metal, but going from no arm to the nth metal means the transition is easier.

"While I'm not against you having what amounts to the best prosthetic possible, I _was_ under the impression you were going to ask first," Bruce says, still squinting at the arm.

"That wasn't his fault, actually," Clark says. "Originally the nth metal was... well, a block. We were taking it with us as something that wasn't dangerous that could be studied scientifically. I carried it around for a while, but when I handed it to Will to hold, it reformed into a breastplate on its own."

Bruce looks skeptical. Will can't even blame him.

"The armor I wore in the past, before the ikon suit, had nth metal incorporated into it. I think the nth metal reacted because I'd bonded with some amount of nth metal before."

"That makes about as much sense as anything else I've heard today," Steve says with a sigh. "I guess they already tried to make you give it back?"

"It's not coming off on its own," Will says. "ARGUS is just going to lend me the stuff."

"You're going to have to make yourself available for testing as needed," Steve says, flipping through some of the papers in front of him, "but I don't see it being a big deal. Things happen... especially when you're a friend of Bruce's."

"Hey," Bruce sputters. "This one isn't on me."

Steve gives him a wry smile, settling back in his seat once he's done making his notes.

"You and your family have a tendency to... make trouble wherever you go. I'm not surprised it's you."

"The arm is a non-issue," Diana says. "Can we discuss the fact that they discovered and activated a... a Kryptonian android?"

"He's not an android," Thad says immediately. "He was, but he's in a flesh and blood body now."

"He's basically the logic of a computer brain in a meat body," Will says. "Before anyone asks, no, his brain is fully biological. If I was going to guess, he uses his visor to provide a heads up display so his eyeballs can be used for slicing things in half."

Era is silent beside them. He doesn't acknowledge that they're talking about him, sitting perfectly still while they discuss both who he is and what's to be done with him.

"His prime directive," Clark adds, "is to ensure Thad's safety. Thad is considered a... cultural repository for Krypton. He's sort of implied he's going to continue doing that until Thad's passed the knowledge back to Kandor and had it archived."

"Incorrect," Era announces. "I must ensure Thad's safety in perpetuity."

Forever. Fantastic.

There are a number of distressed glances being exchanged, so Will cuts in, doing what he can to soften the situation.

"In all likelihood, we can make Era deviate from his prime directive over time. Era might have started life as a computer, but right now he's in a Kryptonian brain. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together will tell you that when you put someone in a human brain, they start thinking like a human... going past their original programming. The same should happen here."

"You're hinging a lot on the possibility that he's going to become more person-like over time," Diana says. "He might very well stay the same."

"If he's still the same in a year, by then we should have the Kandorians. They can work with us to get him to update his prime directive. Otherwise... being blunt, you don't have a lot of options," Will points out. "What are you going to do, fight him? He's at least as strong as Clark."

"I think Will's right," Slade says. "This isn't an ideal situation, but we don't really have the opportunity to decline. We're going to have to make do with having Era around until he either mellows out, or we have the Kandorians to help. It's not a matter of deciding if we could or should... it's a matter of deciding if we have any other option, and we don't."

"I could attempt to disable him," J'onn says, "but I do not believe the odds are good. While he may be in a Kryptonian brain, his thought processes are... difficult for me to comprehend. However, I believe he has presented himself honestly. He will protect young Thad from harm."

"So it's settled," Steve says. "Already. He'll be treated like he would be if he'd come down from space alone, we'll get him an ID... and... uh, a change of clothes. We'll see how he adjusts, and work from there."

"Are we trying to pass him off as human?" Bruce asks, glancing between those gathered.

"This is already his attempt at doing that," Will says. "This isn't even what he looks like normally."

"That means you can show them, Era," Thad says. He sounds too damn happy considering how serious the meeting is. Era doesn't need any more prompting, deep blue patches on his skin beginning to appear and spread, his eyes slowly returning to red.

"...Well that's intimidating," Diana says. 'Don't let him go out like that in public, for sure."

Era's already reverting back, and Will gets the impression that swapping back was much faster than returning to blue.

"I'll handle things with ARGUS," Steve says. "Bruce, Slade... you focus on doing what you can. Ideally... would weekly reports be too much?"

"I can handle weekly reports," Bruce says. "Considering the danger he poses, I don't think it would be unwarranted."

Will isn't sure if anyone else notices, but Clark winces at the mention of the danger. After that, everyone goes their separate ways, returning to work or family, but Bruce and Slade stay behind, finally approaching the trio once everyone else is clear.

"I don't think we'll be able to pass you off as completely human," Bruce says, "but at the very least you can stick out less. I'll get you some appropriate clothes, we can get you a room—"

"I will remain with Thad."

"You'll do no such thing," Will growls. "Thad will be just fine in his own room. You can have a room _beside_ his room. But I don't want you in his room."

"It is important that I remain nearby in order to provide adequate protection," Era says. Will interrupts, but that doesn't stop Era from just continuing to talk as if he hadn't been, and faced with stubbornness that isn't even _real stubbornness,_ Will is forced to give way, waiting until he's done.

"He's adequately protected already. He needs privacy in order to make sure he feels comfortable, and that's important too."

"Physical safety is of the utmost importance."

"He's a speedster," Will says, waving his hand at Thad. "He can literally run out of the way faster than you could hope to react."

"Incorrect."

"You're _not_ sleeping in his room," Will says. "Humans have a concept of personal space, which you're going to have to learn. Refer to your records or whatever you need to do, but get it through your thick skull."

He half expects to be informed that Era's skull is of _optimal thickness,_ but instead Era simply stares up at him, apparently processing his words. Finally, he turns to Thad, looking him over.

"Would it be ideal for me to sleep elsewhere?"

Thad pauses, then nods carefully.

"If you were always in my room, I don't think I could sleep at all, and sleep is important for regular functioning and all that..."

"Understandable. I will take this need into account when making future choices, and will sleep in a nearby room in order to avoid preventing Thad from sleeping."

"See?" Will says, waving his hand to Era. "Easy. You just have to logic him through every choice."

"Easier said than done..." Bruce grumbles. "Are we going to have to do this for everything?"

"Every. Single. Thing."


	21. Chapter 21

The obvious, inescapable next step is introducing Era to everyone else. Bruce sensibly decides that it should be done in normal clothes, and since Era's closest in size to Will, he's the one who gets to pull out a change of clothes, instructing Era to change in the empty room and closing the door behind him.

By some miracle, Era emerges fully clothed and looking relatively normal. He could walk down the streets of Gotham without anyone batting an eye, and while Will desperately hopes they aren't going to have to do that any time soon, he's a lot more relaxed in terms of _what ifs_ than he was before.

Rather than doing the introductions downstairs, they end up doing them in the living room of the room Bruce and Slade share. It's the only place significantly large enough for them all to fit, and it of course leads to a lot of gawking as people enter the room, see Era, and then see Will's arm.

 _Cool arm,_ Joey signs. Will debates signing back just to prove he can, but can't actually think of anything to say by the time everyone's entered. They arrange themselves around the room, all standing because there's not enough seats, and right then Will's feeling the loss of the manor more than ever.

"Everyone," Bruce says, "this is... Era. Who will be staying with us for the near future."

Era's face is completely blank, showing no sign of emotion as he's introduced. He either doesn't have emotions, or simply doesn't _get_ emotions, and Will suddenly realizes that means someone—probably him—is going to be in charge of teaching Era how they work. He groans softly, reaching up to drag his hand down his face with a sigh.

"And so the student becomes the master," Slade murmurs, and Will shoots him a dirty look.

"Era," Bruce continues, "is a... a bio-android. While he was originally robotic, he was given a Kryptonian body in order to allow himself to keep up with Zod and the rest, but eventually but into storage and declared unnecessary. When Thad and Will explored the ship, he was reactivated with a new prime directive."

"Which I'm going to assume doesn't include doing what Zod would want?" Jason says, eyeing Era warily.

"He's supposed to protect me," Thad says. "Because I know all sorts of stuff about Kryptonian culture. So I need to... to stay intact until it can be properly transferred."

"Incorrect," Era says. "Thad will remain the oldest and most complete record of Kryptonian culture regardless of whether that knowledge is replicated."

"We're working on it," Will says. "Considering he's in a Kryptonian body, that means he has a full capacity for human emotion and thought. Over time, he should become more human, until he can choose to do what he wants... like, say, going to live on Kandor."

"My prime directive will remain," Era says simply, and doesn't bother trying to argue any of the other points. Will squints at him, and then shrugs.

"Any questions?"

 _Pop, the arm?_ Joey signs.

"Oh right," Will says. "Simple enough. The arm's nth metal, which is really rare and has a bunch of neat things it can do. One of those things is shifting shape to accommodate the wielders needs. I needed an arm, it obliged me. It's going to take some practice for me to whip it into shape, but it'll do in a pinch. I've got full sensation as it stands."

"That sounds a good deal better than any prosthetic, although I imagine that your doctor might be disappointed to hear that," Alfred says. "Perhaps it would be best to alert him sooner rather than later."

"I'll let him know when I can," Will says. "He might already know. ARGUS approved me taking it off the ship, and he's ARGUS."

"ARGUS didn't have much choice," Bruce points out. "Let's not pretend they let you just waltz off because they thought you'd be a good fit with it."

"Fair point," Will says with a shrug. 

Joey suddenly slams his fist into his hand, his body language jumping to life as he shifts to furiously signing.

_Wasn't nth metal what Hawkman used?_

"Same stuff," Will confirms. "My suit used to have some nth metal, and Clark and I think that's why it reacted to me, but not him."

"The arm is fascinating, but should we not be more focused on the former android in our midst?" Damian says. He's taken a seat, the standing a shade too much for him right then. "He's going to guard Thad?"

"That's the idea, yeah," Will says. "That's what he's declared to be his _mission,_ and as far as we can tell that's the only thing he's willing to do."

"I am wary of this," Damian says.

"So are we," Slade says, reaching down to rest a hand on Damian's good shoulder. "But the alternative is worse, and we've dealt with strange, dangerous beings from very far away before." He shoots Will a little smirk, squeezes Damian's shoulder, and then release him. "Mostly it should be us handling him anyway. You need to be focused on recovering."

"That's all I have to focus on," Damian says. "Recovering, recovering, recovering... when do we get to move into the mansion?"

"Maybe another two weeks," Bruce says. "We're pushing to finish the bedrooms first so that we can move in, but some parts of the manor will take much longer to finish than others."

"I just want to have Titus and Portia back," Damian says, his head sinking. "Why couldn't we have been in a hotel that allows pets?"

Bruce bends down, pulling Damian into a hug, and very carefully kisses his temple, well away from his injury.

"I know," he says quietly, and Will immediately gets the impression he's intruding on something private. He averts his eyes, but he can't turn off his ears. "We're going to see if you can't visit with them some more, alright? But right now you need to be careful, and Titus is a very large dog. Maybe Portia..."

"They should stay together," Damian says, and Will waves Era down.

"Come on," he says. "We're going to show you your room."

Thad tags along, and Joey falls in beside them. Jason, Slade, and Alfred remain behind, neatly splitting the family in too.

But showing Era his room is undeniably boring.

"It's a really nice room," Thad says helpfully when Era shows no real reaction to his quarters. "You'll stay here, since you shouldn't be staying in my room."

"Because children need their space," Era says flatly.

 _Everyone needs their space,_ Joey signs, before catching himself. _Can he even understand ASL?_

"I am fluent in every language Thad was when he exchanged information with the ship. That would include both English and American Sign Language, allowing me to communicate with those who are near Thad without confusion."

 _Neat,_ Joey signs.

"Communication is clearly vital to ensuring Thad's safety."

 _Pop,_ Joey adds, _what are you going to do about school?_

"What about school?" Will asks, raising an eyebrow.

_Is Era going to be alright with Thad leaving to go to school without him?_

"I will accompany Thad to school," Era says, and Will groans. He hadn't thought about that. He's already thinking about what sort of gift basket he'll have to send Tim to make up for this.

"You can't," Will says. "An unexplained adult would be distracting, and draw attention that Thad doesn't want."

"I will explain myself."

"That would not help," Will says, looking desperately between Joey and Thad for help.

"What if... you pretended you were superman? Superman used to hide up in the clouds and listen for people calling for help. Maybe you could do that with me, and... come if I called for help?" That immediately seems to second guess the idea. "Or wait, only if I called your name. Because I might ask for help in school, but it would be asking for help on classwork or something, and it would be really bad if you punched through a wall."

"Robinson Academy is an elite private school," Will says. "It has its own security, and there's no reason Thad would be in danger while attending."

Era seems unfocused for a moment, and Will spots tiny bits of Kryptonian text flashing by on his visor, barely visible to anyone else.

"Bullying is a significant risk factor for Thad, as he has only recently joined school. He should be privately schooled to ensure his safety."

"But I'm popular!" Thad blurts out, only to go red after realizing what he just said. "I mean, I'm not that popular, but I have a lot of friends. Colin would be really upset if I got pulled out, and people would ask questions..."

"Thad has super speed," Will says. "If every student in the school tried to kill him at once they couldn't hope to touch him, let alone harm him. He's in no danger... but more importantly, none of this matters."

"I do not understand," Era says.

"Thad _wants_ to go to school. What Thad _wants_ is more important than the hypothetical possibility that a meteor could strike his school while he's away from the hotel."

Era is silent, apparently trying to decide what the next step is, and then finally nods.

"I will observe from the sky."

"While out of sight," Will says. "the last thing Gotham needs is someone floating above the city like it's the end of times."

"I will remain out of sight," Era confirms.

Will isn't exactly convinced that Era isn't going to screw it up, but he's not sure it's worth investing so much time and energy into trying to cover all their bases. Era knows everything Thad knows, and it's just a matter of him putting that all together. For the most part, that means he has to connect the dots on his own, and as much as Will wants to help the process along... well, the best way to learn is to actually do it himself.

Just like he did.


	22. Chapter 22

Helping Era adjust to living with the family is excruciating. Will's hoping for more improvement than he gets over the coming days, but is sorely disappointed. When Thad leaves for school, Era leaves at the same time, spending the entire school day floating high in the sky over Gotham. It isn't a healthy choice, but Will's attempts to convince him to do _anything else_ doesn't work.

Frustrated, Will spends most of Monday in the kitchen, making use of having two hands when he can. He tries to make it a _training_ exercise, but his arm remains stubbornly in arm form, even when Will tries to do literally _anything_ else with it.

Apparently, the nth metal has decided he needs an arm more than anything else. When he needs a knife, it simply stays an arm rather than shifting into a knife like he hoped. It's not what he wants, but he can make do just fine with hands.

When Era and Thad return Monday afternoon, Era's right back to hovering behind Thad like the world's most conspicuous bodyguard.

"He didn't bother you while you were in class?" Will asks, checking Thad over for brick dust or any other signs that Era decided to go through a wall.

"He stayed away," Thad says, and there's a flash of guilt that Will's eyes catch just for a moment.

"What was that?" Will says, leaning in. "What are you hiding?"

Thad fidgets, and Will scowls down at him.

"Alright," he says. "We're having this talk. Era, stay outside and don't listen in."

"I refuse," Era says. "I must ensure Thad's safety."

"I get that," Will says. He's a moment from tearing his hair out. "But Thad is _my_ son, and that means _I_ need to have a private talk to him."

"I will remain outside," Era says, and all Will can do is let out a frustrated noise, guiding Thad up to his room to have the talk... with Era obviously listening in.

There's no point, but he closes the door anyway, gesturing for Thad to sit. He looks nervous, fidgeting as he sits, and Will... Will is at a loss. He's not sure how to come at the problem. He's not sure if there even really _is_ a problem. Kids lie. They hide things from their parents. And he's only been Thad's father for what, a month? He's entirely off what little script he had going for him.

But considering the side effects of Thad's _last_ lie...

"You wanted me to tell you the truth," Will says. "You asked that of me, even though it wasn't something a kid would normally ask their parent. Even though it was unusual. That was what you needed, and now I'm going to do the same. I need _you_ to tell me the truth. I can't... I'm not yet capable of handling all that teenage bullshit. I need honesty to I can keep you safe, Thad."

"During lunch I snuck off to the side and called Era down. I wanted him to meet my friends."

He should have seen that coming. He _really_ should have seen that coming.

"And that went well?"

Thad nods his head.

"Everyone thought it was pretty cool that I had a bodyguard. And they all already know I'm close to the Wayne-Wilson's."

"How many know about your speed?"

Thad hesitates until Will fixes him with a nice hard look and he gives in immediately.

"Just Colin. He's my best friend at school, so it felt weird hiding it from him. So I told him a couple weeks ago." There's a moment of hesitation as Thad's eyes drift away, and it's clear he's thinking of something other than just showing Era off.

"What?" Will says. He's not going to try and guess. He knows better. He's not going to guess right, and guessing wrong is just going to put ideas in Thad's head that absolutely do not need to be in in his head.

"It's nothing," Thad says, but his fidgeting says otherwise.

"Remember what I said about lying?"

There's even more fidgeting. Will wonders if he should be grabbing Joey. Joey does better at this. Joey would know what the hell he's supposed to do.

"...Am I a bad son?"

Oh no. Oh _hell._ Will isn't prepared for this, so he defaults immediately back to the one thing he knows that will help. It's his emotional nuclear strike, and he simply scoops Thad up in his arms, pulling him against him as Thad curls against him. It isn't a solution. It's not an _answer,_ and Will has a sneaking suspicion that Thad's not going to be happy until he gets one.

So he tries, even though he has no goddamn idea what he's doing.

"You're not a bad son. Not sure someone can even _be_ a bad son. Pretty sure that's on the parent." Not helpful, he reminds himself, trying to fumble through. Trying to find the magic set of words he needs to say to convince Thad he's not a fuck up.

"You were mad."

"I was frustrated. That's not the same thing as being mad. Trust me, Thad, you'll know when I'm mad."

Thad doesn't reply right away, and when he does, his voice is hesitant.

"Like when Era called me project Inertia?"

"Like that," Will confirms. "I was mad then. I'm not mad with you. I am frustrated you are... making things harder on yourself than they need to be. That you're putting yourself at risk when you absolutely shouldn't be."

"I just..." Thad says, and Will... Will doesn't get it. He can't figure out why the hell Thad keeps _doing_ this crap.

"You're better than this," Will says firmly. "Stop doing things that are going to get you hurt, because if you get hurt, I'm—" He almost says _going to be mad,_ but catches himself. "Then I'll be upset. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Okay," Thad says quietly. "I'll try and do better, okay? So you won't be upset."

"You should be..." Will makes a frustrated noise, unable to vocalize. Unable to put into words that Thad should be trying for his own sake, not Wills. "Listen, just be safe, alright? Just because you've got an unstoppable Kryptonian bodyguard doesn't mean you're not going to have issues, alright?"

Thad nods into Will's shoulder, and Will finally releases him. He still doesn't get _why,_ but the supposes it doesn't really matter. He'll figure out if it matters. Otherwise? Well, he can safely ignore it.


	23. Chapter 23

Meals are normally a time for conversation with the Wilson-Waynes. There's always things to be caught up on, always some new subject. Thad wants to talk about what he's doing at school. Damian wants to complain about the fact that he _isn't_ at school. Joey has a gallery opening in the city soon, which he reluctantly admits he'd like the family to come to. Bruce and Jason talk about work, while Slade and Alfred talks about progress at the house.

Era says nothing. He has no topics to discuss, nothing to bring up. When Jason makes an attempt to draw him into conversation, Era gives a particularly unhelpful assessment that Thad was not injured at any point in the day.

Will knows he shouldn't be expecting too much, but telling himself not to expect something and actually not expecting something are two very different things.

On the third day, he cracks.

"Bruce," he says desperately. "Tell me I was never this bad."

"You were never this bad," Bruce says, and Will immediately realizes his error. Bruce was always going to say _you were never this bad_ even if he absolutely was.

Half an hour later, Will ambushes Slade in the hallway.

"Slade," he says just as desperately. "Tell me I was never this bad."

"You were never this bad," Slade says, and Will squints at him, unable to tell if Bruce already warned him or not. He's spoiled his own results. Apparently Slade thinks the squinting warrants another reaction, because he snorts, shaking his head.

"You had emotions," Slade elaborates. "And deep down, you knew what you were supposed to be doing with them. You were just in denial. Easier to not address the issue than to confront it head on. You still cared about Joey, even when he wasn't sure about it... you just weren't really sure how to show it."

Will isn't sure. A part of him feels like Slade's wrong, like he's giving him too much credit. Sometimes he second guesses himself, looking back at the things he did in the past and wondering how the hell he ever tried to claim to have _loved_ his kids.

Looking at Grant in particular. At the pain he caused him. At what he drove him too.

Slade claps a hand on Will's shoulder, shaking his head.

"Stop beating yourself up," he says. "You'll figure this out. You'll be a great mentor to Era, and eventually he'll be appreciative that you gave him a chance."

"Because we had no other choice," Will points out.

"You still gave him one. You could kill him, if you wanted to. We have the capacity for that now." There's red-sun weapons at the ready, and Will has to admit that Slade's right: they _could_ kill Era if they wanted.

They just won't.

"You're still making the choice," Slade says. "Now shouldn't you be checking on the man of the hour?"

Damian and Thad are watching some Disney movie in Slade and Bruce's room, with Era standing just beside them like the world's most stoic bodyguard. Will doesn't join in— _he_ sure as hell isn't watching any Disney movie—but he does settle in the room, half-observing and half focusing on his work.

He wants the manor. Having Era there only makes the need that much more pressing. It's impossible to manage a schedule while living out of the hotel, and it feels like there's not much in the way of personal space. Everyone has their own room, but there's no _shared_ space, and even as the Wilson-Waynes being to resume their old lives, Will finds himself feeling trapped and cagey. All the things he wants to do are either difficult or impossible to manage. He can't work out with the equipment the hotel has to offer, the library's selection is sorely lacking, and even the restaurant kitchen has its limitations.

Era, on the other hand, doesn't seem to have any sort of issue with the accommodations. If he gets bored, he doesn't show it at all, silently processing what's happening around him without complaint. He follows Thad too and fro, never really _interacting,_ and Will winds up getting more and more annoyed by the behavior.

"You should talk to him," Will tells Era Friday evening. Thad's got headphones in, watching through a video on his tablet as he sprawls out in Will's room. Era's response it to turn his head, regarding Will with a completely blank expression.

"Thad," Will clarifies. "You should talk to Thad."

"It is unnecessary."

"Thad having a bodyguard is unnecessary, yet you're still here. You could go help with Kandor shit, and yet you're intent on guarding a kid who lives in what's probably the safest place in the world."

"...A hotel?"

Will rolls his eyes.

"He lives with two Deathstrokes, two Batman, Jericho, Shrike... he's literally surrounded at all times by a small army of superheroes and mercenaries. No one's going to be stupid enough to try and grab him, and even if they did, he'd just zip away."

"He is too valuable for any risk to be taken."

"He is," Will agrees, and there's a flicker of confusion. It's subtle, barely there, but the way Era's eyebrows furrow together is the first real sign of _emotion_ that Will's seen from him.

Thank god. Will was perilously close to giving up.

"My point was," he continues, "you should talk with him. He'd feel more comfortable having you around if you made conversation and acted like a family friend rather than some random guy intend on stalking him."

Which might be a lie. Really, Thad seems perfectly comfortable with Era's presence already. Will isn't sure if it's because they're both Kryptonian experiments, or if it's because he knows Era's major duty is to keep him alive. But it's important that Era learn to communicate properly.

"I am uncertain how communication could ensure his safety further."

"It could help him feel more confident in having you around," Will says. "It's not that hard. Just talk to him."

Era turns, staring at Thad for what seems like forever before he finally speaks.

"...Hello, Thad."

Thad must hear his name even through the headphones, because he turns around, glancing between them in confusion.

Then, of course, Era turns to look at Will, obviously having considered his duty finished.

Will slaps his face with his hand.

Fantastic.

"I meant having a conversation," he says. "Not just saying hello."

"Oh, are we teaching Era about conversation?" Thad says, perking up as he sets the tablet aside, pulling his headphones completely off. "I mean, he already knows, so I guess it's just him putting it into practice."

"He knows?" Will asks, but he's already realizing what Thad means. Era should know everything Thad knows in theory... Only something about that doesn't sit right. "Are you sure?"

"I mean, that's how it should work," Thad says.

"Incorrect," Era says. "I have been given the information that the system believed would be most helpful in completing my mission. I do not have the capacity to hold the amount of knowledge that Thad is."

Which makes sense. Thad's supposed to be a walking encyclopedia—it stands to reason he'd need extra capacity to hold... well, all that information about Kryptonian culture and language. Will has a whole lot of questions about that, namely into how Zod actually _managed_ it.

He makes a note to ask Villain to look into it.

"Do you know the same human social information?" Will asks.

Era stares at him a moment before answering.

"Yes."

Will decides it's probably like a computer indexing their files: Era has all the information he needs, but none of it is connected like it should. When something's pointed out, it gets added to his directory and he can come back to it better later.

"Alright," Will says. "So we should have an easier time teaching you than if you didn't know the information at all. Thad, you should... try and talk to him."

"About what?" Thad asks, cocking his head.

"Anything," Will says with a wave of his hand. "He'll be happier to talk to you than he will be to me."

"So I could just... explain the movie to him?"

"As long as you get him to talk back to you."

Will supposes he should probably feel bad about talking about Era like he isn't even there, but Era makes it so damn _easy._ He's largely non-responsive to things that aren't directly aimed at him (or putting Thad in danger), and the fact that Will can have a whole conversation about him less than three feet away without him even acknowledging it... well, it's hard not to do it, even when Will's trying not to.

Thad launches into an overly detailed explanation of the movie (which he's already seen at least three times). There's not much actual back and forth conversation happening, but Will supposes it's better than the alternative, and goes back to his tablet, letting the two talk it out.


	24. Chapter 24

Will fully intends to take Thad alone to go see Villain. Era, on the other hand, has no intention of letting him do any such thing. He of course insists on tagging along, even though the last thing Thad wants is for Villain to get within ten miles of Era.

He knows what kind of trouble he's getting into as he parks the car in front of Villain's building, turning around to fix Thad and Era with his most intense glare.

"Best behavior," Will says. "Do what he asks you... within reason. No fighting. Era, if he needs to take samples from Thad, you _let him._ No blasting Villain because he needed to take some blood."

"As long as Thad is not harmed."

"Thad probably _will_ be harmed, just in very minor ways he'll recover from without issue. That's what I'm telling you. No blasting Villain."

"We like him," Thad says helpfully. "So be nice."

Villain is normally pristine and dignified, so the fact that he looks like he's a hair away from _vibrating_ with excitement when he sees Will's arm, and he gives up any attempt at decorum when he sees Era standing between them.

"So this is the Eradicator," Villain says, looking him over. "I hope you realize that Victoria will be beside herself that I got my hands on him first."

"He goes by Era," Thad says.

"We should get inside," Will grumbles. "You can gawk once we're in your lab."

Villain does a lot of gawking once they're inside. He completely ignores Will's arm (Will can't decide if Villain is irritated with him, or if he's simply that much more interested in Era) in favor of running a series of tests on Era. Will finds himself deeply amused when, midway through the study, Villain simply pulls out a tablet, props it up, and voice calls Victoria.

Thad waves at her enthusiastically, and Victoria flashes him a smile.

"Thad," she says. "How've you been?"

"Good," he says. "I have a new bodyguard."

"And I hear Will has a new arm."

"Morning Victoria," he says, waving with his arm. "How's Tanya?"

"Wondering why you don't call more," Victoria says. "Do better, Will."

Ouch.

"Interview your subject," Villain tells Victoria, swooping over to where Will stands and holding out his hand. Will offers his arm, and Villain starts to inspect it, running his fingers down it.

"You have sensation?"

"I can feel you poking, yeah," Will grumbles. "As long as it's in arm form, anyway. When it was a sword or breastplate I didn't have any sensation, so it's just what you'd expect."

"What I'd _expect_ is no sensation," Villain says. "The fact that you have any at all makes absolutely no sense. The arm isn't connecting to your _nerves."_

"Are you sure?" Will asks, raising an eyebrow. Villain makes a noise of disgust and starts herding him towards the far end of the lab.

"Well, we're going to have to see."

Midway through the third scan of his arm, Will brings up what's been on his mind.

"Can you do a detailed brain scan on Thad?"

"What brings this up?" Villain asks. "Hold still. You can answer after it beeps."

Will waits for it to finish, and then answers.

"Thad apparently has knowledge of all the stuff Bart needed to know, _and_ all of Kryptonian history, culture, language... Plus he never forgets."

"You think they tampered with his brain."

"I think they modified it. Era described him as the _culmination of all known Kryptonian Engineering,_ which doesn't make any sense."

"In what way?"

"Kryptonians already made Era, who's effective a clone, and Kryptonians are notoriously difficult to clone. Ten years in the future with them hard at work and pushed to their limits, and all they managed to do was... clone a human?"

"When you put it that way, it's easy to see why you'd be concerned. While nothing was wrong when I ran tests on Thad earlier, I also didn't take an in-depth look at his brain. I'll use a more focused approach and see if we can't find anything else."

Villain keeps his focus on Will's arm, running a number of tests. He can't actually take any samples—the nth metal is too hard for that—but there's plenty else he can do. He has Will attempt to shapeshift it, but it's a complete failure.

"It's just been an arm," Will says flatly.

"If I had to guess," Villain says, "I would put my money on the fact that your body needs an arm more than it needs to follow your instructions. If so, you'd expect it to shift only in times where there's a major need. I can't even begin to speculate as to how it works. Where does it get the energy to change form...?"

"Fascinating questions I couldn't give a crap about, doc," Will says. "How do I learn to make it change its shape?"

"That's another thing I can't even guess at," Villain says with a shrug. "You are six steps passed human understanding, and Victoria and I are still making strides towards understanding the _next_ step."

Which is a glorified way of saying he has no idea. The only option Will sees is asking a Thanagarian, and... well, he doesn't want to, because they're likely to try and confiscate it.

Will is _not_ having his shiny new arm confiscated by some flying chickens.

"I've done what I can," Villain says. "I'm going to go take a look at Thad, since you requested it."

Thad has more shots to do (Era seems hyper focused on the interaction, but holds his place even when Villain slips the needle into Thad's arm), and then Villain gets down to testing, running him through two different scanners before looking over the results and making a _noise._

"What does that mean?" Will asks, unable to interpret Villain's noises properly.

"It was a noise of disgust that I somehow missed this on the first full-body scan I did. The signs were there, I simply just missed him."

"...I'm hungry," Thad says quietly. Between the commute to Villain's office and the hours of testing, it's well past the time Thad should have eaten. Era stands immediately, and Will rolls his eyes.

"Cut it out," Will calls before Era can burst through a wall to go raid a supermarket. "Doc, what's the plan here?"

"I'm going to send these results to Victoria and get her to take a look. If you'd like to take an hour break for a meal, you can go right ahead. I'll be here when you get back."

Will does just that. As stupid as it is, he picks out a sushi place not far from the office that looks empty and heads inside. He barely even registers the gawking, completely ignoring the two couples and the family sitting at their tables in favor of focusing on the menu.

The existence of a waitress, of course, means they _have_ to interact with someone, and she doesn't seem to be able to figure out which of them to stare at. She keeps looking between Era and Will, and when Will goes right ahead and orders for the whole table, seems to be even _more_ confused.

Will isn't going to let Thad order while hungry, and letting Era order his own food is... no.

He already knows Thad likes sushi, and Will's secretly hoping that Era hates it. _Hate_ is an emotion he can work with, but disappointingly Era has no reaction to it at all. He eats the sushi the same way he'd eat a sandwich, not seeming to enjoy it at all. Thad, on the other hand, loves it. He digs through the pile and then convinces Will to order him some more, going to town with an appetite befitting a speedster. The waitress seems baffled by how much they're putting away, but Will gave up on caring about things like food expenses years ago, and doesn't hesitate to drop the card Bruce gave him to pay for the whole thing.

Villain looks ready to do business when they get back, and he has help. Victoria's still on the screen, looking as intense as she ever does.

"What have you got for us?" Will asks. He doesn't bother to sit down. Villain's almost definitely about to make them go somewhere else. His office? A different lab?

"What I _have_ is a desperate desire to look at Thad's brain for myself, but I'll have to make do with scans," Villain says. Will's happy for the clarification, because the first half of the sentence was just asking for Era to laser the top of his skill off. "Both Victoria and I have looked over the scans, and while these are preliminary results, from what we're looking at... Thad has a hyper-evolved brain."

"I what?" Thad says. He looks horrified, and Will reaches down, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Your brain is still originally human, and built on a human template. However, it has been... pushed past what a human brain is usually capable of."

"It's because I'm a speedster," Thad says quickly. "They're all probably the same way, because we have to think at super speed, right?"

"Barry's brain _was_ unusual, but not on the scale yours was," Victoria says. "Your memory is beyond what a human brain could manage at ideal conditions. Even Will doesn't match up."

Well, that's the first time Will's heard _that._

"What are we talking about, here?"

"Thad's memory is perfect. He's a walking catalog. But he also thinks at superspeed. The only reason he operates the way he does currently is because he's so young. He's effectively only six months old. As he gets older, he'll get..." She pauses, considering, and then her fingers steeple together. "He'll end up more like you, Will. Your brain is the closest equivalent."

His brain is the closest equivalent.

Alright.

"This is a lot to unpack," Will says. "Era, did you know about this?"

"Thad is the pinnacle of Kryptonian engineering. I am not privy to the details."

"I didn't know about all the... the stuff they did to make me. So he doesn't know," Thad says quietly. He seems withdrawn, so Will goes to the old standby, bending down to scoop Thad up. It's a whole lot easier with two arms, and he catches a glint of fascination in Villain's eyes at the easy use of his arm.

"Alright," Will says. "I'm taking Thad home. You can speculate about brain shit later."

Victoria's face pinches with concern, but Will simply flashes an _ok_ on one hand behind Thad's back. Thad looks embarrassed at being hugged in front of Villain, but Will doesn't give him time to get too worked up about it, opting to head back to the car as soon as he can, with Era following just behind.

He sits Thad down in the passenger seat, bending down in front of him and taking a deep breath as he tries to sort out what the hell he's supposed to say. He's not even entirely clear why Thad is bothered by it. Most people would be _happy_ to be smarter, but obviously not Thad.

He goes for what he thinks will cheer him up the fastest, even if it's not going to address the actual issue.

"Turns out you've got your dad's brain," Will says, shooting Thad a smile he doesn't really feel. It works, and Thad returns the smile timidly.

"Why don't we go home?" Will says. "We've done what we need to here."

Era's useless, so Will simply directs him into the back, letting Thad sit in the front. The change of place seems to distract him, letting him stare out the window to watch the country go by.

"Why don't we watch a movie when we get back?" Will suggests. It seems like it'll take Thad's mind off it, but it's hard to tell how much it does or doesn't work.

"Sure," he says quietly, seemingly distracted.

"...This doesn't change anything, you know," Will says. "You're the same person you were before. This is how you always were."

"I know," Thad says, but doesn't say anything more.

All Will can do is accept the non-answer and resolve himself to figure it out later.


	25. Chapter 25

Will leaves Thad and Era in his room, watching whatever movie Thad picked out. Once he has them settled and he can be moderately sure Thad isn't going to get any worse, he excuses himself to a corner of the building to do what he should have done a while ago: call Tanya.

"Oh, I see how it is," Tanya says smugly. "Victoria nags you and _then_ you call me..."

"That's how it works," Will says. "It's also how _I_ work. I don't do long distance well."

"I know, Will. I'm just ribbing you... I mean, calling me when you remember to and need to ask something is still better than how you were before."

"That's not a high bar." There's a moment of silence, and then Will gets to the point. "I wanted to ask about Thad. You're still talking to him regularly, right?"

"At least once a week. Sometimes more than that. As far as I know, he's keeping in touch with everyone."

"Then you'll know what his issue is."

"That's going to be a no, Will," Tanya says. "We don't... talk about stuff like that. About deep stuff."

"But you know there's an issue."

Tanya is silent for a moment. Will can't get a read for her body language over the phone, and he desperately wishes he could. It would be easier. Easier to understand what she's thinking, why she's saying the things she is. Tone can only do so much for him.

"Yeah," she finally says. "He's been acting off. More... quiet than usual. But it's hard to say, because Thad was always... three people."

"...Elaborate?"

"There's who Thad was supposed to be, and then who he was. He was _supposed_ to be Bart. But when he realized none of us knew Bart, he... dialed it back. He acted a bit like Bart, but not so strictly. There was a change early on with him."

"But neither of those are real," Will says. "They're both personas. They're both... acts."

Will can understand that. He's acted before. But not to the degree Thad has been.

"And then the third him is who he really is," Tanya says. "The real him."

"You think this is because he's trying to find who his real self is?"

There's a quiet snort on the other end of the phone.

"No," she says. "I mean, that's something he must be dealing with, but I don't think that's the issue."

"Guide me, Tanya. You know him as well as I do at this point. What the hell is the issue?"

Will tangles his hand in his hair, pulling tight. He likes the tension there. It grounds him, gives him focus. His brain's trying too hard to focus on the subject, but he's not getting any sort of input to work with. Or at least not enough.

"I don't know," Tanya says after a moment. "I'm smart, but I'm not smart _that_ way. I can't just read Thad's mind from the far side of the country based on a few quick conversations. This is going to be on you, Will."

He doesn't want it to be. The absolute last thing he wants is for it to be on him.

"There has to be someone else."

"Honestly, Will? Get him a therapist. He's been through a lot, and you... well, I think you know you aren't qualified for that."

A therapist. He's not sure why he didn't think of it earlier. It feels like the obvious choice; the obvious solution.

"A therapist," Will says desperately. "I'll just get him a therapist. I'll talk to Bruce, he probably has ten on speed dial, since he loves them so much."

Tanya makes a noise Will reads as surprise, but he glosses over it.

"I'll talk to Bruce now. And I will... try and call you more."

"Being completely honest with you Will? I'm kind of busy here, so don't be surprised if I miss _your_ calls."

The idea amuses him as he finishes up the phone call. He makes a point of checking on Thad and Era before excusing himself again to go and find Bruce. He isn't a hard man to find: he's in his room on the phone when Will knocks, and waves him in with a gesture for quiet as he wraps up his conversation. Will guesses, just from what he's heard, that Bruce is talking with someone at ARGUS.

"So?" Will prompts when Bruce finally hangs up.

"They're doing more testing on the power source you pulled out of the Kryptonian ship. Of course, everyone's already fighting over who has the rights to it. The whole thing is an absolute nightmare."

"I'm not surprised, Bruce," Will says flatly. "People were always going to fight over any new technology. It's what people do."

Bruce makes an unsatisfied little _hnn_ and turns back to Will, cocking his head.

"So? I assumed you knocked with a purpose, otherwise you'd have just waited until dinner to talk with me."

"I want to get Thad into therapy. He's been acting oddly. Tanya even said he was behaving more withdrawn with her. Lots of little signs."

"You don't have to sell me on it," Bruce says. "You know I've always advocated for it. I was going to bring it up as a subject of conversation once things were a bit more settled, and we had the manor. I've already started reaching out to see who would be available, but if you think starting sooner rather than later is better, I could always have them come here."

"Here's fine." He doesn't really think it matters where it happens, and he knows Bruce isn't stupid enough not to have swept the whole damn hotel for bugs and hidden cameras.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Bruce asks.

Crap. His response must show on his face, because Bruce winces in response.

"You're going to have to," Bruce says. "It would be better if he heard it from you. Maybe talk about the fact that you have your own therapist... that you've been making good progress with her."

"That I'm overdue." Not as much as he was before, but it still feels overdue. He hasn't talked to her since everything with Era, and that's a whole ton of shit to sort through. The last few times he called, he called because he had specific questions in mind, but now...

Well, now he has a lot of _issues_ but no clear way to vocalize them.

"I'll talk to him," Will says. "But after dinner. He's already been through enough today."

Will tries to ease the blow by cooking that night. The kitchen staff clearly think it's a pain in the ass having to share the kitchen with him, but considering Bruce _owns_ the hotel they're content to let him be. He keeps his mess to a minimum, whips up something he knows Thad likes, and then lets the staff help distribute the food, saving him from making multiple trips.

"I've missed your cooking," Jason says, staring at the plate longingly. "It was bad enough knowing you were across the country and Damian was getting to eat your food and I wasn't, but when you came back and suddenly couldn't cook? Devastating."

Will rolls his eyes at Jason's dramatics.

"I'd have figured it out," he points out. "It just would have taken some time."

But he's happy he didn't have to. Having the arm makes things so much simpler, in the grand scheme of things, even if he's sure ARGUS disagrees. He's not giving the damn thing up for anything now that he knows what it's like to have lost it.

Well, maybe for some things.


	26. Chapter 26

Will talks to Thad that evening, but gets less push back than he expects.

"Therapy?" Thad asks, staring up at Will for a moment. "Like... talking through stuff with someone?"

"Someone whose privacy is guaranteed. They won't tell anyone... not even me, unless you want them too."

"Okay."

Will finds himself caught off guard by how easily Thad agrees, and finds himself squinting down at the boy without meaning to. Thad obviously recognizes the surprise, because he explains himself immediately.

"Victoria said that was important before," he says, "and Jason and Joey both did it. You do it too, right?"

Will hesitates, then nods.

"With someone else," he clarifies. "I don't know who Bruce will find for you though. Finding a good therapist can be hard."

"I'm sure Bruce will figure it out," Thad says and goes right back to what he was doing _before_ Will pulled him aside. Era watches the two of them intently, and Will catches himself scowling at him.

He stupidly expects it to take a few days for Bruce to get all his ducks in a row, but in the end it's not even a full twenty-four hours before a familiar old man appears in the hotel lobby. Most of the group is chatting at their usual table, although Bruce and Slade are both gone, off at work.

"Hudson!" Jason says, looking almost excited by the sight of the old man. He waves him over, and he approaches the table, looking at Jason fondly. "I didn't think we had anything until the manor was back up and running."

"We don't," Hudson says, "but your father gave me an excellent pitch for why I should come out of retirement to help a new patient, and he always _was_ a very convincing speaker..."

"Oh, he got you?" Jason says, looking even _more_ excited. His head cranes around, looking to Thad, and Thad goes stiff in his seat, suddenly on the spot. "Thad, this is Hudson. He's been my therapist for... well, since I first needed a therapist. He's a great guy, and you can trust him, alright?"

Thad stares up at Hudson for a moment, seeming to just take him in, and then nods.

"Okay."

"Why don't we go grab one of those rooms Bruce said they'd have reserved for us. The staff should know where I need to go," Hudson says. He's sociable. Friendly. He seems to be doing all the right things to help Thad calm down, but even with the fact that Jason went to the guy for years, Will still finds himself wary.

"Why don't I come with you," he says, and Jason immediately scowls at him.

 _Pop, no,_ Joey signs behind Thad's back. _Give him space._

"I'm afraid that won't work," Hudson says. "Privacy is important, even for patients who are underage. Regulations—and professional ethics—prevent me from passing any information back to a patient's guardian."

"I will observe," Era says, and Will realizes that _this_ is what he's going to have to deal with.

"I'll handle Era," Will says. "Go... have your appointment." He waves them off, and Hudson gives him a polite nod as Thad leaves with him. Era's already standing to go when Will catches his wrist.

"Era," Will says. "This is important for Thad. It's important to his well being. Making sure he's... mentally well."

"Then I will ensure everything goes according to plan."

"Yeah, that's not happening," Will says. It feels like he's playing chicken with a train. If Era wants to, Will isn't going to be able to stop him. Era could simply walk through the goddamn wall, and there's precious little Will could do about it. He could fight him, but that would be a disaster in the making, and part of him being there is about proving he can do things _other_ than commit acts of extreme violence.

"You cannot stop me," Era says, calling his bluff. Will chooses his words as carefully as he can manage.

"I can't," Will says. "But I can tell you that interrupting—or even _listening in to_ —Thad's therapy session would be a bad thing. It would be bad for him."

"If therapy is so important to regular functioning, why am I not participating?" Era asks.

"Because you've had one emotion and it was being confused. Right now you don't have enough for _anyone_ to work with, and it's my job to... to give you those pieces."

"I do not understand."

Jason, Joey, Damian, and Alfred are watching the entire conversation with blatant fascination, their eyes bouncing back and forth as Will and Era have their not-argument. Will feels like he's putting on a damned show for them, but it's not as if he has any other options as far as what he can do. It's either have the argument then and there, or end up having it chasing Era down when he goes to try and _sit in_ on Thad's appointment.

"Of course you don't. People are going to say I'm being harsh here, but I'm just being direct. You're not a person right now. You're like a quarter of a person at best. Right now you're a computer who has the _potential_ to be a person, but you aren't there yet."

Most of those watching are cringing, but none of them say anything. Will suspects they aren't saying anything because, simply put, they agree: Will is right. Era _isn't_ a person just yet. He's... working on it.

"I understand," Era says. "You believe it would be desirable for me to be a person."

"I think it's the only way you're really going to be able to function. You're a computer in a meat body. Eventually, things are going to start to go wrong. Things aren't going to match up. Eventually, you're going to start becoming a person whether you want to or not, because the body you're in is _meant_ for a person. It's just better you go through that extremely infuriating process surrounded on all sides by people who give a shit."

He can only imagine everything that might have gone wrong in other circumstances. Circumstances where Era was taken in by someone with less scruples about his use. Circumstances where Zod still had his hands on him.

There's another flicker—confusion again—but it's gone as fast as Will can try and process it.

But it's _there,_ and that counts.

"I know you won't want to go far," Will says, "Why don't we just stay down here, talking with everyone, until they're done?" While his original plans skewed more towards luring Era out of the building to keep him from listening in, conversation's probably going to have an easier time of it.

"That's an excellent idea," Alfred says, clearing his throat as he leans forward. "Now, as I was saying..."


	27. Chapter 27

When Thad returns, nothing seems to be particularly different. He doesn't seem quieter, or more withdrawn, or anything of the sort. He seems normal enough, and it isn't until Will's preparing dinner in the kitchen that Thad shows any sign of being affected by it.

"What would you do if I said I didn't want to go back to the Titans?"

Will pauses mid-chop, his eyes sliding over to look at Thad. It is, he decides, a test question. Thad is _testing_ him. He wants to know what he'll do.

"Figure it out, I guess," Will says after a moment's pause, going back to chopping vegetables. "Don't think it'd take all that much to do. I said I was retired already, so it'd just be us being like we are now... only, in the manor I guess."

"What if I wanted to go back to the Titans? To the base on the west coast?"

 _That_ question is a lot harder to handle.

"Depends," Will says. "I'd have to talk to Victoria and everyone over at ARGUS. I'm not sure if I'd go back to heading the Titans, or if I'd just be support staff again."

"But you'd come with me? You wouldn't stay here with Joey?"

"I'd miss Joey," Will says, deeply aware that Thad's questions are revealing a lot more about himself than Thad thinks. "But I'd go with you. You're still a minor, and Joey's a fully grown adult. He has his own life, and... well, I wouldn't be surprised if he moved out of the manor to leave with Jason at some point."

Thad's very much in his space, but Will doesn't shoo him away. Really, the most important thing he's getting from the conversation isn't even about Thad: It's about Era, who's notably _not_ looming protectively over Thad, even though he's surrounded by any number of kitchen-related dangers.

"Did you ask Era to wait outside?"

Thad shakes his head.

"He did that on his own," Thad says. "He's doing better about figuring out things like... giving us space. I think he trusts you? As much as he trusts anyone."

"He's learning," Will confirms. "But that's for me to figure out."

"It's for all of us," Thad says. "It takes a village, right?"

"Era's not exactly a child," Will says with a snort, slipping Thad some carrots to eat. Thad munches them down, staring up at Will with clear interest, so Will prompts him. "Go on," he says. "Go ahead and ask."

"Why do you even like me?" Thad asks. "I'm not... I mean, I lied to you from the very start, and..."

Oh hell. Will has no goddamn idea how to answer that, but he's very aware of just how important it is that he answers it properly. The questions that Thad chose to ask are blatant, leaving no question as to why he's asking; Thad is second guessing himself, questioning why anyone would _want_ him, and he needs reassurances.

"Asking me to explain that is beyond me," Will says. "I could barely figure out my own motivations... trying to explain them to someone else is impossible."

"You don't even _know?"_ That asks, confused. "How can you not know?"

"Stuff like that isn't something you know. It's something you feel."

"Like who you have a crush on?"

"Like that," Will says. "You feel it. Some things about humans defy any sort of explanation."

"No kidding," Thad grumbles to himself. "This would all be a lot easier if someone could just _explain_ things." He's so fast that Will's probably one of the few people who can see him, but Will _is_ watching, so he catches a glimpse of Thad's hand darting out, stealing a carrot off the cutting board and popping it into his mouth.

It's almost an attempt to be sneaky, except the loud crunching of him eating the carrot is anything but.

Will reaches down, ruffling Thad's hair, and Thad grins up at him. He seems more at ease, so Will's careful when he asks the obvious question.

"So how was therapy?"

"I don't want to talk about therapy."

It's the first time that Will can think of Thad saying _no._ Just outright rejecting him. Will's first instinct is to insist, but after a moment he reigns himself in. He doesn't _need_ to know. He shouldn't push.

"Help me with this," Will says. "If you're going to ask all these questions while we're in the kitchen, you're going to get put to work."

Thad does help. Mostly with the simple things, the cutting and washing. Will doesn't let him do the _cooking_ part of things, but Thad's good (and fast) with meal prep. By the time the food's cooked, the table is set and everyone else is already seated. It makes for an easy transition, with Will joining them with the last of the food, and there's a lot of appreciative noises for the food he's prepared in addition.

"I was thinking that tomorrow, I might take Era to expand his wardrobe. I thought he might like to pick out his own clothes," Alfred says.

"I do not have any preference as to what attire I wear," Era says. "I must remain on guard, watching Thad to ensure his safety."

"Thad's going to be at school," Will cuts in. He doesn't really care what Era's wearing—what Alfred picked out the second day certainly does the trick—but he does know it's important to pry Era apart from Thad so he can develop a personality beyond _must protect Thad._

"I'll be just fine," Thad says. "It's not like I'm going to be at any sort of risk. And if I was, I could handle it myself. Will _did_ train me."

"Your training is insufficient," Era says. "The risk is too great."

"My training is just fine," Thad says, wrinkling his nose at Era. "Will beat a Kryptonian all on his own."

"An impressive feat, but he was serious injured in the undertaking."

"Era, go get clothes," Will says. "Don't make me convince you of _everything."_

"My instructions were clear."

"Your instructions from _who?_ The ship's computer?"

There's a pause, and Era stares at Will directly, seeming to need the time to process. Will can only guess that Era doesn't actually _know_ who he got his instructions from in the grand scheme of things.

"Who says they're right, anyway?" Jason says between bites. "You've accepted that Zod's no good, right? But he's the one who was in charge of the ship the longest. He could have done all sort of things to your coding."

Will's seen flickers of confusion on his face before, but this isn't a flicker. This is a full on existential crisis, and part of not having emotions is not having any ability to hide them. A child could tell that Era's slammed into a mental wall he can't quite get past, and Will exchanges quick looks with the other adults at the table.

Bruce attempts tact, clearing his throat and carefully speaking.

"What Jason was saying was that it's important to make your own decisions," Bruce says. "Thad being safe is important, but you also have to trust that other people are also trying to keep him safe. It isn't just a task that falls solely on your shoulders."

"It is who I am."

"And betraying everyone here was who I was," Thad says. "That was my mission. It was what I was supposed to do. But I... I chose differently. So now I'm here, and I have friends and I have family and I can have a life of my own."

Joey reaches over, wrapping his arm around Thad's shoulders to show his support. Thad leans against him, but doesn't stop.

"You should choose too. Eventually... when you're ready. Choosing what you want to do is important."

"I must protect Thad," Era says simply. The confusion is still there, but his voice sounds sure.

"Protecting Thad's a good thing, but lets be clear here: you need to be doing it for your own reasons," Slade says.

"I must protect him to ensure Kryptonian culture is maintained."

"Which is a worthy goal, don't get me wrong." He gestures with his fork to make a point. "But we'd all rather you do a good thing for a good reason than do a great thing for no reason."

"I do not understand."

"We didn't expect you to," Bruce says, interceding in a far softer tone than his husband. "You're still learning. You're still... experiencing a lot of this for the first time. Why don't you spend tomorrow with Alfred, buying clothes. It would be... an excellent first step."

Will's expecting a no. He's expecting it because why would the answer _not_ be no. There's no real motivation for Era to go with Alfred, to deviate from his _mission._

"That would be acceptable," Era says, and Will raises an eyebrow, glancing between Era and Alfred.

"...Well, good," Will says quickly. "Sounds like that'll work out for everyone." Or at least he _hopes_ it will.


	28. Chapter 28

Will expects things to go wrong when Era leaves with Alfred the following morning, and apparently he's being obvious about it.

"Sit down," Slade says. "Relax."

With Jason at work, Joey setting up his show, and Bruce handing the manor for once, Slade's in charge of keeping an eye on Damian. Damian's mobile, but he still needs a lot more rest than he used to, and any trip out of the hotel inevitably ends with him in dire need of rest.

So it comes as a surprise when Damian jerks upright rapidly, squinting out the window.

"I think I just saw Clark," he blurts.

"Jon?" Slade suggests, before second guessing himself. "No, he'd be in class." He's already craning his neck around, and only a few moments after Damian spots him, Clark strolls in the front of the hotel. He's in his suit, which probably means he was out on official business... and potentially that he's there _then_ on official business.

"Good news?" Slade says. "Bad news?"

"Just news," Clark says, coming in to join them at the table. There's a few people elsewhere in the restaurant, and plenty of them are twisting around in their seats to see the man of steel. "Do you mind if I...?"

"Go for it," Will says, sliding a basket of croissants over to him. "Not as flaky as I'd have liked."

"They are excellent," Damian says. "Pay no mind to Will, he's a perfectionist."

"I'm sure they'll be great," Clark says, grabbing two before grabbing a spare knife and a block of butter. He's clearly hungry, and Will's already getting up to go make something for him when Clark shakes his head, swallowing down what he has in his mouth. "Sorry, I'm not staying," he says quickly. "I just wanted to let you know in person. I was hoping you'd both be here, but I can always stop by the manor and let Bruce know on the way back home. I assume he's there?" His focus is on Slade, which tells Will that it's _League business._

Great.

"So?" Slade asks. "Kandor? Lor-Zod? The ship? What's on fire now?"

"Kando— I mean, nothing's on fire, Slade. But it's about Kandor. There were some meetings today, and some... some voting. All preliminary stuff. But it was obvious that the answer was going to be no, so I made the right choice. I told them we should be taking the Lanterns up on their offer to resettle the Kandorians. Considering I was the one suggesting them staying on Earth in the first place..."

"Did you tell Hal?"

"I told him first. He says he's going to report back to Oa and let them know so we can... get that underway."

"Are you going to be alright with this?" Damian asks, perking up with clear concern. "I know Jon said you were really excited..."

"I was," Clark says, not bothering to hide it. "But I need to do what's best for them, and that isn't staying here."

Will's happy Clark's finally come to the obvious conclusion about the matter, but he has other things on his mind.

"What about Lor-Zod?"

"I know Kara was on Oa, but she was... well, there were some political issues. The Lanterns understandably didn't want her bringing him back to Earth right away, so the idea was that she'd stay there, help him adjust, and then return to Kandor. With this... I'm not sure. I suppose he might be handed over to Kandor once they're resized?"

"Sounds as good an idea as any," Slade says. "Anything else we need to know?"

"It's really just that," Clark says. "I wanted you all to know. I assume you'll pass it on to the others?"

"We'll do that," Will says. "Take care of yourself, Clark."

Clark crams another croissant into his mouth, shooting the group a thumbs up as he excuses himself.

"Well, that went well," Slade says casually. "Here's hoping it stays that way."

They're all clearly thinking about Era's shopping trip, but when Era and Alfred return early that afternoon there's no signs of anything having gone wrong. Era's carrying a number of bags, Alfred looks pleased, and the trip was obviously a success.

"No issues," Alfred says. "Although I believe Era needs to go put his clothes away for however long we're still here."

Era doesn't say anything as he heads to his room, but not before Alfred fishes into one of the bags, retrieving a small wrapped package which he sets aside. Will eyes it but doesn't ask. He doesn't need to: at the first opportunity, Alfred pulls him aside, sliding the package into his hand.

"Not for you," Alfred says, "but I thought that you and Thad might want to have a gift ready for Joey's show tomorrow evening. While shopping for Era, I spotted this and thought it would be appropriate."

The gift's already wrapped, which means he's relying on Alfred's good taste... but then Alfred _did_ always have good taste.

"Thanks," Will says, tucking away. "I'll let Thad know."

Will does. Thad gets home right on time, skidding to a stop before Era's even finished putting his things away, and Will pulls him aside, showing him the gift. Thad frowns at it though, glancing between the book and Will's face.

"Is this alright though?"

Will doesn't follow, raising an eyebrow as he stares down at his youngest.

"Because... it's a gift. But we didn't pick it out. Shouldn't we pick one out ourselves?"

"What?" Will says. "Why? Whatever Alfred got is just fine."

"But it's not _from us._ It's supposed to be the thought that counts, so we should get something that has thought put into it."

Will has absolutely no idea where Thad got that idea, but it sure as hell wasn't from him. Will's supposed to be encouraging him though, so he makes a strained noise and finally nods.

"We... probably should," he says. "Should we go get something now, then?"

It turns out the answer is _yes,_ and Will ends up spending the entire evening being dragged all over the city by Thad to find a gift. Thad just _can't_ decide what he wants to get, and eventually Will has to put his foot down, insisting Thad pick something. He does, but only reluctantly, and Will has to herd him right back to the hotel.

Who knew a kid as fast as Thad would be so damned slow at finding a gift? Will can't even imagine how bad he'll be during Christmas.


	29. Chapter 29

Will returns Alfred's gift for Joey back to him the next morning. Alfred raises an eyebrow when he hands it over, so Will clarifies.

"Thad thought we should pick out something ourselves," he says, "so we went and picked something out. He wanted it to be... personal."

"The boy has good sense," Alfred says with a small smile. "I wonder if he has found the way he wishes to show affection, or if he is simply experimenting."

Will offers only a grunt and a raised eyebrow, so Alfred clarifies.

"Different people show affection in different ways," Alfred explains. "Some show it by spending quality time with their loved ones. Some show it through the giving of gifts. For others, it's a matter of showing physical affection, or providing words of praise and adoration. For some, it's about what one can do for another to demonstrate that they care."

Will's heard something like that before, but he takes a moment to turn it over in his head.

"He's too new at anything to have decided yet," Will says. "Probably just figuring it out. Bruce is pretty blatant about how he feels about gifts, so Thad's probably modeling himself after him."

"He's as good a person as any to model ones self after. Give Thad space, and I'm sure he'll figure out what he desires in due time."

"Here's hoping," Will says, and excuses himself to the kitchen to start making lunch for those who are still at the hotel.

They dress up that afternoon for the show opening. It's a big deal for Joey, a fact that every member of the family seems intent on reminding him of. His first show. The first time he's publicly exhibited his art in the new world. There are a million and one reasons he needs support, and that fact is something that people will _not_ stop telling Will.

"It's his—"

"I get it," Will says, cutting Slade off. "I'm going to be supportive, no matter how I feel about things, because he's putting himself out there. But you don't need to lecture me, because I _know_ that Joey's work is going to be great."

"...Supportive," Slade says, withdrawing from the room to head down to the lobby. Will is left in his room, and Thad leans in the door right as Will is finishing doing up his cuff links.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Will says, turning back to Thad. "Are you?" Thad's dressed, but that doesn't mean he's _emotionally_ ready.

But despite Will's concerns, Thad looks more excited than anything else.

"I want to see his work," Thad says. "I've only seen photos, and that's not the same at all."

"It isn't," Will agrees. "But you'll get to see plenty of his work this afternoon."

The gallery is a small one, modest in size and decoration. There's not much fanfare, even if there are signs up. Will knows that it's impressive Joey has a solo show for his first, but beyond that the art world largely eludes him.

Joey's style is varied but distinct, and his subjects—the various members of the Justice League and Bruce's extended vigilante family—stand out. Many of them Joey's never even seen in costume, and yet somehow he manages to bring them to life anyway. Azrael hasn't been active for years, and yet there he is, leaping across Gotham's rooftops. Barbara Gordon's Batgirl was retired for years before he even arrived, and yet there she is as well, organizing someone out of frame.

Jason's already there, showing his support, and Joey seems genuinely shocked when the whole group arrives in three cars.

 _You didn't all have to come,_ Joey signs, going a rare shade of red. _It's just a small gallery._

The people there—and there aren't many of them—are certainly noticing who just arrived, and Will wonders how long they have before the fact that the first family of Gotham just arrived at a small art gallery is public knowledge. Even if Joey didn't want to take advantage of Bruce's connections, it's impossible for him to completely separate himself from them.

"We had to show our support," Will says right as Thad zips forward, holding up the roughly wrapped package.

"We got this for you. Me and—Will and I." He looks momentarily embarrassed as Joey accepts the package, reaching down to hug Thad before peeling off the paper. Inside is a leather-bound sketchbook, intended to be rugged and hold up to travel. Joey's face lights up, and he gives Thad another squeeze before grinning at Will.

_It's nice having you guys here._

"Wouldn't miss it," Will says. "Thad, you want to go look at everything and leave Joey to his adoring public?"

The rest of the family still has to say hello, and there's the actual _public_ coming behind them.

Era joins Thad and Will as they make a circuit of the gallery, looking over each piece. Most of them are paintings, but Joey's always had plenty of range, and he demonstrates as much in his first exhibition.

Even if there _are_ a suspiciously large number of paintings of Raptor and the second Batman.

"...Wonder how the other one's doing," Will mutters to himself as he stares at the painting.

"...Who?" Thad asks, tilting his head up.

"The other Jason. The one from my world. He was... a very different person from the one you know. But then he had different opportunities. He never had a chance to be this sort of Batman. Hopefully he's doing better than he was."

"Hopefully," Thad says, even though he's never met him. Then he goes quiet for a moment, staring up at the painting.

"...Thad," Era says, entirely unprompted. He's been following them around the whole time they've been at the gallery, but he hasn't _said_ anything until that moment.

"Sometimes I think about them," Thad says, his voice barely audible. "About the people who were in the world... the timeline that I destroyed. Because that's what I did, didn't I? I changed it."

"You can't destroy it. It never was. Timelines aren't like worlds. Timelines are other fates, not other people. What you did was prevent a lot of people from dying. From suffering horrible fates."

"...You mean like with Slade and Bruce?" Thad asks, but it's not a real question. "With Slade being... evil."

"That's not evil," Will says. "That's desperate. If it was me, I would have stayed with Joey. But Slade didn't have everyone left. All he had was Bruce, and he wanted to keep him."

There's a long pause, and then Thad speaks again.

"When we first met, you believed me because I told you that you were in love with..."

Will squeezes his shoulder, and Thad's head falls, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"We can talk about that later," Will says. "Talking about it here isn't the greatest idea. There's other people around, and we're getting enough attention as is."

"Okay," Thad says. "Why don't we look at the rest?"

There are an awful lot to look at for sure.


	30. Chapter 30

The gallery is supposed to be open till past midnight, so Will excuses himself with Thad and Era not long after dinnertime. He doesn't feel up to cooking in light of the conversation he's inevitably going to have to have, so he simply picks up fast food on the way home.

Fast food, to Will's _intense_ amusement, gives Era his second clear emotion: disgust.

"This is unpleasant," Era announces two bites into his burger, setting it aside. "I do not understand why you would eat it."

"Fast, cheap, tastes good to most people. When you need the fat and calories to keep going, there's nothing wrong with fast food."

"I will not eat it."

"Then you can eat what the hotel kitchen makes, because I'm not cooking tonight."

"That will be satisfactory," Era announces like he has any sort of say in the matter. "You have to have a private talk with Thad."

No kidding. Will parks and sends Era off to their usual table to order himself some food, and then heads up to his own room. He debates Thad's room instead, but his room seems better: it gives Thad the option to leave and return to his own room if he wants some privacy. It's hard to figure out how he'll react, or if he'll even care. All he can do is take the precautions he has available to him.

Will settles down on the edge of his bed, and Thad hops up beside him, looking up at Will for insight.

"You like Bruce too?"

Wow. Right to the point, but Will isn't sure why he expected anything else.

"Yes," he says, and then reconsiders. "Maybe. It's complicated."

"I don't think it's that complicated. It's something you feel."

Oh, Thad is _definitely_ his kid, using Will's own words against him. He'd given him almost the same lecture about _just knowing_ as far as it counted for _just knowing_ Thad was a good kid, and now Thad's giving him the same goddamn speech about Bruce.

"Yeah, well, my feelings are all over the place. I don't know what I want."

"Damian said... he said you and his father used to date."

"We had one date," Will says, "which I fucked up massively."

And even saying he fucked it up massively is understating it. He knows how badly things went overall. He knows how they ended. There's real, actual guilt there, which Will knows is a rare emotion for him.

"You still dated," Thad says. "You still like him, right?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe isn't an answer."

This goddamn kid.

"I don't know, Thad," Will says. "I like... Bruce. But I also like Slade. I like them both for different ways, and it's... they're already married. They're already in love. It was a mistake to intrude on that. To try and... take Bruce for myself."

"Does Bruce think it was a mistake?"

"He broke up with me, for one."

"That's not the same thing as thinking it's a mistake. Did he say it was a mistake?"

Will makes himself think through the conversation he had with Bruce on the roof all those weeks ago.

"We mutually agreed we were better apart. That I had to... work on myself before I could be in _any_ relationship."

"And you have," Thad says. "You adopted a kid and you fought a Kryptonian and won, and all sorts of other things."

Will supposes he has. He's changed a lot in the last year, and a lot of that was since he and Bruce _broke up._

Thad stares at him a moment longer.

"...You should go on a date with someone."

"What?" Will asks, turning to squint at him.

"You should go on a date with someone who isn't Bruce or Slade. Sometimes you look at them when they're together and look unhappy, so I was thinking you should go on a date with someone else, and maybe that will let you figure out your feelings."

Will doesn't believe in being too smart for your own good, but right then he believes in Thad being too smart for _his_ good.

"You've thought about this before."

"The Titans used to talk about it sometimes. Some of them—I'm not going to say who—used to think that you and Victoria would end up together, but Tanya was insistent that they were wrong. I guess... well, because she knew you liked Bruce but couldn't say it."

Victoria? Will's face scrunches as he tries to wrap his head around it. Around... Victoria. Truthfully, he hadn't given her much thought, but then he hadn't given _anyone_ much thought. He'd been too caught up with Bruce, too focused on his team, too lost in his own head.

"Oh no," Thad says, dragging him out of his thoughts. "Don't think about it."

"What, Victoria? She is... I suppose she's my type." She might not be able to _physically_ take him down, but she's certainly done it a few times _verbally._

"She's already seeing someone."

Will's caught off guard by that, but after he takes a second the answer's obvious. Victoria's buried in her work. The only place she could meet someone would be _at_ work, and she'd need to be with someone who understood how important it was for her...

"Villain?"

Thad nods.

"Tanya told me the other day. She said she wasn't sure if Victoria would... would want to move out here, or if Villain would be moving out west, but Victoria said that it wasn't changing things right then anyway. They're still long distance, and neither of them is in a hurry."

"The only way they're going to meet is if Villain has an interesting patient in San Francisco, or Victoria has something to study in New Jersey."

Thad grins at him.

"You mean like your arm? Or your genetics?"

"Something like that," Will says with a snort. He's _hoping_ Thad's forgotten the original subject they were on, so he attempts to wrap things up. "I think I'm going to wait downstairs for everyone else to come back, if you want to join me..."

"I think we should talk more about getting you a date."

This kid is going to kill him, isn't he?

"It's not as easy as just saying _let's get me a date,_ Thad."

"It sure seems that easy," Thad says, wearing the most devilish look Will's ever seen on his face.

"I'm a public figure. I'm one of three confirmed people in the universe from another dimension. I live with Bruce Wayne and Slade Wilson. Half the people on the planet probably think I'm a member of the Justice League. I can't just _sign up for a dating app."_

"You could," Thad says. "You should. Or I guess you could go for speed dating. Maybe that would work better? You seem to prefer face to face stuff."

Will groans, burying his face in his hands. Why does Thad have to make it sound so simple?

"I will... look into it," he finally relents. "I'll ask... I don't know. Joey? Jason? One of them will have advice." Jason might have tried dating before Joey came into his life. Or maybe Dick? Tim? Will has no idea, but _anyone_ would have to be better than him.

"Okay," Thad says, "but you have to ask. You can't just say you're going to ask and then keep putting it off. Tomorrow, alright?"

Will grumbles a bit but eventually relents. He doesn't have the fortitude he once had. He doesn't have the willpower required to turn Thad down.

"Alright," he finally says. "I'll talk to people... tomorrow. Can we go watch for everyone else?"

"Era's probably already down there," Thad says. "Joey seemed... he seemed really happy. I think he had a lot of fun today."

"I think he did too," Will says, pausing for a moment before reaching out, giving Thad's shoulder a squeeze.

Alfred's talk about _ways of showing your love_ seems suddenly pertinent, and he hesitates before pulling Thad into a more complete hug.

"Alright," he says. "Let's go wait for everyone."


	31. Chapter 31

There's trouble from the word go the next day. Trouble, of course, comes in the form of Joey swaggering down to breakfast with a grin on his face, leaning right over to where Will's sitting and signing to him with an absolute shit eating grin.

 _So I hear I'm supposed to get you up on some dates,_ he signs.

"I see word travels fast."

_Thad told me before he left for school. He said you probably weren't going to ask for help, even though you promised you would, so I should prompt you._

"Traitor," Will mutters under his breath.

_So anyway, I recommend speed dating. You ideally want to meet a lot of people at once, and I doubt you have a clear idea of what you have in mind._

He sure as hell doesn't, so he doesn't argue with Joey.

"You've done this before?"

 _Oh sure,_ Joey signs. _I've been with friends, mostly. I went to one once that was only for people who were ASL fluent, but those were pretty rare. I already started looking, by the way, and there's one I think you might like Friday night._

Friday? That's only two days.

"That soon?" Will says. He was hoping he'd have more time. Time to... adjust. To come to terms with it.

 _That soon, pop,_ Joey signs. _It's not so bad. You'll do just fine, I'm sure._

"You've got a lot more faith in my abilities than I do," Will says. "I just—" He cuts himself off as someone approaches the table, but it's just Era. His expressions are as blank as ever, but at least he's started walking less stiffly. In the ten days he's been awake, he's figured out how to pass as a human... at least at a distance.

"Bruce has informed me that the house should be ready sometime next week," Era says.

"Thank god," Will grunts. He wants... he has a bed, but he wants _his_ bed. He wants his home. He wants to introduce Thad to the place he's going to be _living,_ rather than just the place where he has to stay while they get the manor sorted out.

Joey isn't letting the subject drop, though.

 _I'll get you all signed up and send you the information,_ Joey signs. _Try to stay busy, alright?_

Staying busy is easier said than done. The idea of _speed dating_ weighs on him more than he'd like. It should be casual. It should be simple. And yet it feels like a nearly impossible to ignore.

He tries anyway.

"How did your show go, anyway?"

 _Went great,_ Joey signs, his face lightning up. _I had some interest in another show already. They sold a bunch of prints of some of the pieces, but those sold out pretty early. I didn't want to actually sell any of my pieces just yet, but I guess I probably should._

"If you want to keep them, I'm sure Bruce can figure out storage. Or maybe a permanent gallery." He's just happy to be talking about something that _isn't_ speed dating.

 _A permanent gallery? That seems excessive,_ Joey signs, his cheeks going red. _They're not that good._

"Your work is great," Will says. "It deserves a gallery."

_I told Bruce I'd make some work for the new manor. It's bigger, so there's going to be some empty walls when it's all done._

Will hasn't given much thought to the size of the manor, but from what he's seen... bigger is an understatement. It's two stories, for one.

 _I need to go make a call, but try not to harass the kitchen staff too much,_ Joey signs, leaning over to kiss Will on the cheek before heading up to his room.

The rest of the day feels almost painfully mundane by comparison, and Thursday isn't much better. Everyone seems to know that Will is signed up for _speed dating,_ and everyone seems insistent on giving him tips.

Considering the tips range from _be yourself_ (Alfred) to _consider not talking about your kids the whole time_ (Slade), most of the help isn't actually that useful. By the time Will's on his way on Friday evening, he's mostly just ready to have it over with. His expectations are low. Very, very low. He does make an effort to dress nicely, pulling on a pair of slightly out of place gloves to hide his obvious metal hand to avoid alarming anyone, and then heads out on his own.

There's forty people in the group, a two and a half hour window, and after the brief introduction period (they get _nametags_ and a little form to fill out), they all get assigned numbers and sent off to tables.

His first pair is an Asian woman almost half his age. She looks distinctly unimpressed, or at the very least deeply unenthusiastic about the meeting as Will looks her over.

"I'll save you the trouble," she says. "I'm off the table."

Will pauses, then glances around, confused.

"You marked..." He squints down at her form. "Interested in both?" The meeting's supposed to be _bi friendly,_ meaning he's going to be swapping between men and women, but the fact that she's starting with _off the table_ doesn't exactly bode well.

"I'm a lesbian," she says. "My father's overly controlling and insisted I put down that I was interested in men. I'm not. Sorry for the waste of time."

"It's fine," Will says, waving her off. "Nice of you to be up front, at least." He's squinting a little bit about the fact that her _father's_ ordering her around at what must be thirty years old, but he's not sure he's the right person to be judging appropriate family dynamics. "Guess it's good you'll get to use... maybe half of the dates?"

"I'm just hoping to avoid any creepy interactions," she admits. "I don't exactly have high expectations."

"I'm starting to suspect none of us do," Will says with a snort, before pausing and offering his hand. "I'm Will."

She grins at that, but takes his hand, giving it a shake. "I know," she says. "I'm Eiko." Japanese, then. "If this is a seduction attempt..."

"I wouldn't waste the effort. Right now I'm more thinking that you seem like you aren't crazy, and that the rules require me to select at least three people, so putting your name down seems like a safe bet if everything else is a wash."

She laughs at that, a light, happy thing, and she leans back in her seat.

"Well, Will, that doesn't seem like too bad an idea. A nice backup. Maybe I'll put you down too, assuming the women are a bust." She scans the room, her eyes lingering on a few women who Will assumes must be her type.

"Here's hoping they aren't," Will says right as the organizer calls for them to swap. Will says his goodbyes, swapping to the next person in line.

The next three are busts. All three seem interested in _him,_ but two are clearly more invested in the _Wilson_ part of his name, asking a lot of questions he refuses to answer about the Wilson-Waynes. The third is nice enough, but absolutely not his type. Will isn't going to lie to himself: he's fairly shallow, and the odds of him going on a date with someone who isn't at a minimum _very hot_ are low.

He fields a lot of questions about Bruce and Slade and Jason over the rest of the two hours. He gets along fairly well with a woman in her thirties right up until she asks if he wants kids, and when he says he already has two she stops paying any attention to him. He gets along well enough with a young man who's around Dick's age. He's got a demeanor that screams military, but seems a bit skittish around Will despite Will's interest. Another woman insists she's going to write him down and keeps winking at him despite Will's clear lack of interest.

The only one he thinks he any sort of potential is a man in his late forties or early fifties who introduces himself as Lok. The fact that he's wearing sunglasses indoors is, if Will is being honest with himself, both deeply familiar and highly endearing, and when Will asks, Lok pulls them off to reveal that the right side of his face has a massive burn scar. He's missing his whole right ear, and between the suit and the close cropped haircut, Will's having a hard time figuring out just what he does for a living.

When he asks, he's informed that's _classified,_ and even Will's blatant _are you kidding me_ look doesn't convince him to answer.

When he finishes his last date, Will isn't quite as irritated as he expected to be. He writes down Albert, the name of the young guy who was so clearly fresh out of the military, debates a bit before scribbling down Lok's name, and then weighs his options before just writing down Eiko's for lack of a proper third.

He's not sure if he's going to get any matches, but he figures it's better than nothing, _and_ he feels a whole hell of a lot more relaxed about the whole thing by the time he leaves the event that night.


	32. Chapter 32

Will gets his matches the following day while he's making lunch. He stops what he's doing to flick through the email, scrolling past the long ramble about how well the event went and inviting them all back to another one later that month. When he gets to _one match_ there's a brief flicker of excitement; he doesn't really expect either of his potential pairs to _go the distance,_ but he likes the idea of going out with someone outside the family for once.

 _Eiko Hasigawa,_ the email reads. There are no other matches, which means neither of his other choices picked him. Will isn't going to pretend that he's not a _little_ bit surprised, but he does suppose it was a long shot from the start.

Even though they only wrote each other down for the sake of not having to find a third name, he ends up shooting a quick text to the number in the email anyway.

 **Will:** It's Will from the event last night. No luck for you, either?

He doesn't get a response until a bit after lunch, when his phone abruptly vibrates in his back pocket. He fishes it out on his way back to his room, firing off a response immediately.

 **Eiko:** Should I assume this means you struck out? I ended up with two phone numbers, in addition to yours. Did you not write down Logan's name?

 **Will:** No idea who that was. Apparently someone I never got to the introductions part of the date.

 **Eiko:** A shame. He seemed like your type.

 **Will:** You don't even know what my type is.

 **Eiko:** People you can boss around. Am I close?

 **Will:** Not even slightly.

 **Eiko:** Let me guess, you wrote down the big man who was missing his ear who clearly wasn't interested in you?

Will squints at the phone, wondering how the hell she got that idea.

 **Will:** He was interested in me.

 **Eiko:** He was making polite small talk. I was four tables away sitting with someone who didn't know when to hold their tongue and I could tell. You asked about his face and he clearly hated that.

 **Will:** Scars are attractive.

 **Eiko:** To you. Most people have issue with them.

Will grumbles to himself, but there's no one to ask. Will's in charge of keeping Damian out of trouble while the rest of the family goes to check in on the manor, and it's not like he can ask _Damian_ his thoughts on the attractiveness of scars.

 **Eiko:** Are you going to Sunday's event still?

 **Will:** I didn't know there was an event Sunday at all.

 **Eiko:** It's a larger event. A different company. I was debating dropping out, but if you were thinking about going, I could be persuaded to attend as well.

 **Will:** That sounds an awful lot like you're taking pity on me.

 **Eiko:** I am.

Ouch. But Will decides then and there that he likes Eiko; They got along fairly well the night before, and he appreciates someone who isn't going to pull their punches with him.

 **Will:** I'll accept your pity then. Can you send me the information?

 **Eiko:** I'll send you it in a little bit. I don't suppose you could pick me up?

Will realizes immediately what she's getting at, and doesn't bother playing nice about it.

 **Will:** You want me to be your beard.

 **Eiko:** Mutually beneficial arrangement. My father's been pushing for me to find a suitable man to marry into the family for years. Pretending to be going on dates with the last person in the world he'd want me involved with may finally get him to give me space.

 **Will:** Partners in crime. What am I getting out of it?

 **Eiko:** You drive a hard bargain. I have a few single friends who might be to your taste. Why don't we talk about that after Sunday's event?

She's offering to set him up with friends, and after a moment Will decides that it's as good a deal as he's going to get. Eiko seems like his type of person, someone he could easily get along with, and friends of hers might fit the same qualities. It's better odds than speed dating seems to be, anyway.

 **Will:** Deal. See you Sunday.

Most of the family seem excited by the fact that he's going out on his own, although Thad (despite being the one who set it up in the first place) seems worried, like he's only just considering the possible consequences of Will seeing someone.

"Maybe Era should go with you," he suggests, as if that's a perfectly normal idea.

"Your guard isn't coming with me," Will says. "You'd have a hard enough time convincing him... and I don't need a guard." That's completely setting aside the fact that Era would be the biggest cockblock known to mankind. He can't even imagine something less attractive than having a hovering Kryptonian who hasn't quite figured out emotions intervening to ask questions about what's happening.

Well, he can, but he doesn't want to.

Sunday morning is by far the busiest day of the week. Joey excuses himself to church (and therapy), while Hudson stops by the hotel for another session with Thad. Will makes himself available in case Thad needs to talk after, but in the end Thad simply naps through the early part of the afternoon, only showing up around dinner. He's tired after a day of therapy, and Will does what he can to give Thad some space of his own.

"You have the date stuff tonight, right?" Thad asks over dinner. Will pauses only for a moment before popping the Brussels sprout in his mouth.

"Tonight, yeah."

"You should go," Thad says firmly. "Go and... have fun." He wrinkles his nose a bit, obviously having second thoughts, and Will raises an eyebrow.

"I can stay if you want."

"I just said you should go."

"And yet it sounds like you don't want me to," Will points out. "You can just say that you want me to stay."

"No!" Thad protests. "You should go out and... do stuff."

Do stuff. How helpful.

"Don't worry about it," Jason says. "Joey and I are going to take Thad and Era out to a movie tonight. Give them some time on the town."

It's a good idea, so Will makes sure he shows his approval before he leaves to get ready. He debates the gloves before deciding it's better to go with them than without them, and it's cold enough no one's going to ask too many questions. He dresses a bit more casually than he did the time before, and then takes one of the cars to go pick up Eiko.

He knows what to expect, and he isn't disappointed. There's guards there when he gets to the apartment building where she lives, frustrated looking Japanese men who seem clearly unhappy that Eiko is leaving. Will debates getting out of the car, but opts to simply stay where he is, waiting for her to come to him. She finally does—the argument apparently finished—letting out an exasperated sigh as she slides into the passenger seat.

"I apologize you had to see that. They were just—"

"You can skip the talk about your father, you know," Will says. "I looked into you before we met up a second time."

Her face darkens, and Will sees her eyes flick to the still unlocked car door as he pulls them out of the parking lot.

"You can relax," he says. "I don't care that you're a yakuza brat."

"Yakuza heiress."

"No, it—listen, the term is mafia brat, but yakuza aren't mafia. The point stands: I really don't care."

"You live with two members of the Justice League."

"I've always been more morally flexible than most," Will says, which is a fancy way of saying he doesn't have many. "It was a mercenary. I did wetwork."

"The general understanding is that you've changed your ways," Eiko observes. "That you have... seen the light and no longer wish to partake."

"I don't work anymore," Will says. "Doesn't mean I've seen the light. My priorities just changed. What matters in all this is that I don't care who your dad is, just who _you_ are, and it's pretty obvious that you have some... differences in opinion with your father."

"To say the least," she says. "It would seem I misjudged you."

"Yeah, no," Will says. "I don't really believe that. You knew who I was from the moment I sat down in front of you. You were feeling me out because you _thought_ I might be the exact kind of morally ambiguous to know who you were and not care."

There's a long silence as they drive, and then Eiko shakes her head.

"Too smart by half," she says with a tone of regret. "You struck me as someone who would... struggle to find people you could be genuine friends with, and you aren't the only one with that issue."

Will supposes it's probably the closest he's going to get to her admitting that she's getting as much out of it as he is and opts to let it go.

"Should I assume your deal is as good as ever?"

"The deal stands. You've done an excellent job reminding my father that there are worse people for me to be interested in then women. After the event's over, why don't we grab drinks and see if I can't find someone who'd suit you better? There's a bar at the venue."

"Deal," Will says. If nothing else, it gives him something to look forward to in the event the speed dating is a bust.


	33. Chapter 33

The venue is an upscale hotel on the far side of Gotham, and it's clear just from getting parking that the event is a much larger one than the previous event. The last event had maybe forty people. This one has to top two hundred. There's multiple rooms, and they both have to fill out a complicated form with plenty of details before the event even starts. The form wants to know all kinds of things about them: the kind of people they want to meet, the expected age range... Will has to hesitate on that one, before finally settling on 30+ as his absolute lowest. Even that young is on the very edge of acceptable, but he figures that it's better to cast a wide net. They all get name tags with numbers, and then they're given customized pagers with the brand of the event organizer stuck on the side.

"...What are we supposed to do with these?" Will asks, glancing to Eiko with a raised eyebrow.

"It beeps and gives you a number," she explains. "You go to that table and meet whoever they've matched you with. It's supposed to rule out people you aren't compatible with at all."

Will ends up having around the same number of dates he did at the first event, but with very different outcomes. Having filled out that he has two kids, he ends up paired with a lot of people who _also_ have kids. Most of those people tend to be middle aged housewives who couldn't be less of Will's type if they tried. It feels almost paint by numbers as he goes through woman after woman. The gender balance of who he gets paired with is skewed to an absurd degree, and by the time Will finishes his last date he doesn't have a single name written down.

"That was awful," he complains to Eiko at the first opportunity. "Tell me that wasn't just me."

"Mine wasn't so bad," she says, looking amused by his apparent misery as he joins her at her table. She's already ordered drinks for both of them, and slides one over to Will. "Some cute girls. Some attractive women. Did you not find anyone?"

"No one," Will admits. "At least they didn't make me write down any names this time."

"Zero for two," she says with a shake of her head. "You're a vegetarian shopping in a meat market."

"Elaborate?" Will says, not tracking the metaphor.

"You are a... a what, fifty, sixty year old man? You look like you're thirty, maybe forty with the beard. You have two kids, but probably aren't looking to help anyone pop out any babies. People your own age are going to be slowing down, but you're speeding up. People younger than you are looking to start their own families, and aren't going to want to get involved in your... baggage."

Boy does he have some _baggage._ Will almost wants to argue, but nothing she's said is wrong.

"You are a mess as far as matchmaking goes. A mishmash. I assume you want... at least a semi-serious relationship?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not introducing a fuckbuddy to my kids."

"And let me say that is an excellent choice," Eiko says, looking more amused by the second. "But you understand the inherent issues of your position. You're too physically young for most people your age, too mentally old for anyone who looks your age, you have enough drama to keep the entire Gotham press in business for years, you've got two kids of wildly different ages, you hang out with the Justice League but also don't actually want to date anyone who wants to date you because you hang out with the Justice League..."

"You make me sound undatable."

"I'm being realistic," she says. "I've known you for three days and the problems are pretty clear. Speed dating isn't going to work for you, being realistic. Online dating might, but the odds are _much_ higher you're going to get a bunch of people wanting stories about your friends."

"So where _am_ I supposed to meet people? The grocery store?" He wrinkles his nose at the idea.

"You are a gym rat," Eiko says, looking him over. "Or at least you look like one. I assume you probably want someone fit?"

"Safe bet," Will says. He can't really imagine himself with someone who couldn't at _least_ run a marathon.

"Gyms. Workout groups. Marathons. Contests. Things like that. Then you have at least one shared interest—physical fitness—in common. You're going to need that to overcome the obvious hurdles."

"Of course I am," Will says, his eyes drifting off to the side as he seamlessly changes the subject. "I think your father figured out where you are."

"Oh, dammit," Eiko murmurs right as a trio of men arrive. They're all Japanese, extremely serious, and Will can tell from the way each is standing that they're all armed. Not that it's a major issue for him: he's confident he could take all three of them out before any of them could fire a single shot.

 _"Miss Eiko,"_ the lead says in Japanese. _"Your father has asked for you to return home tonight. He wishes to speak with you."_

 _"You're interrupting,"_ Eiko says. Will can't decide if she knows he speaks Japanese or not: it's a safe assumption he does for people who know him well, but he's fairly sure the public aren't aware of what Deathstroke's abilities _actually_ are. Most probably just assume _really strong and fast,_ and they're dead wrong.

 _"I apologize for the interruption, but your father was quite insistent,"_ the man says, his eyes drifting over to Will. Will grins, wide and toothy, and the man scowls in his direction as Will props up his chin, leaning on the table.

 _"Let him wait,"_ Eiko says. _"He would not listen to me when I wished to speak to him, and now he wants me to abandon my business here to speak to him at his leisure?"_

The man speaking looks genuinely embarrassed, and Will feels a pang of regret at the poor bastard being dragged into family politics. It's bad enough when it's just business, but this is _family_ in both senses of the word.

_"Miss Eiko, please..."_

"Fine," she says in English with a wave of her hand. "Excuse me, Will. It seems my father insists on my presence now of all times."

"It isn't an issue," Will says, playing the role of stilted boyfriend. "I'll call you tonight, alright? I'm free later this week."

The looks he's getting from Eiko's father's men are absolutely priceless.

"Sure," she says, giving him a pleased smile. Then, just to _really_ piss the men off, she leans down, giving Will a peck on the cheek.

Will's pretty sure the man in charge pops a blood vessel at the very sight of it. If it was anyone else, he'd probably have come to blows already, only it's not _anybody else:_ it's Deathstroke, one of the most terrifying mercenaries he knows, and he's not stupid enough to pull a gun on _Deathstroke._

Eiko waves as she excuses herself, trailed by a small army of Yakuza, and Will turns his attention towards finishing his drink. He's three quarters done when someone stops by his table.

"Is this seat taken?" They ask, and when Will looks up he finds... a woman. Pretty, young—too young, really. She looks to be around Joey's age, with a bright smile and dark hair.

"Nope," Will says. "I was just about to leave." He drains the rest of his glass, and as he watches her face falls.

"Really?" She asks. "You were going? I saw you at the event earlier and was hoping we'd be matched up."

She slides right into the booth, grinning at him. She's a bit too casual, and a warning bell goes off in Will's head.

"Oh?" He prompts. "I'm your type?"

She blushes, and Will has to fight not to roll his eyes.

"Of course," she says. "You're like... I mean, just _look_ at you. Everyone's seen pictures of you... you could grate cheese on those abs of yours."

Which would probably be flattering if Will wasn't so sure she was up to something. Maybe he's just paranoid, but there's something oh so subtly _off_ about her. He got as far as he did in life by listening to his instincts, and he's not about to start ignoring them right then.

"And here I was starting to think no one one was interested," he says, and she turns towards the bar, waving towards the waiter. "I know this is probably pretty forward, but... do you want to try that speed date now?"

The answer is no. She's too young. She's the age of his _son_ and her breasts are practically spilling out of her top, but the whole thing feels so set up that he opts to play along.

"Why not?" He says as a server arrives, dropping drinks in front of both of them. The server seems nervous and is doing a poor job of hiding it, just as the woman across the table launches into a whole introduction.

Will isn't listening. It's in one ear and out the other. He guesses it's the drink. The way the server was so quick to leave—but also had the drinks prepared for them—makes it feel obvious.

Will takes the drink, making a point of looking absentminded about it, and takes a sip. The taste washes over his tongue, bitter and barely hidden, and after some consideration Will decides he recognizes it even as he swallows it down. Sedative. It _should_ be effectively tasteless and impossible to detect, only the drink's been laced with enough to take down a rhino. They probably are trying to bypass his regeneration, only the way his works he's always had an easier time dealing with something like a sedative than he would if they'd just gone ahead and stabbed him.

But with how much is in his drink, that might not hold true for _Slade._ Will knows he can burn through it with only minor impairment, but Slade's regeneration isn't as good, and Will isn't willing to pass up the opportunity.

So he keeps making small talk. He keeps sipping his drink. At one point he checks the time on his phone, shooting off the fastest coded message he's ever managed to send, and then slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

Maybe ten minutes into their five minute speed date, Will starts doing what he can to sell the idea that the sedative is taking effect. He lets his head bob, his attention obviously losing focus ( _that_ part is easy), and then eventually shakes his head, interrupting what she's in the middle of saying.

"Sorry," he says. "I think it's probably time for me to head back home. Getting kind of tired."

"Why don't you come to my place?" She says, batting her eyes. "If you're drunk, it wouldn't be good to drive."

How considerate for the woman who just drugged him to be worried about _drunk driving._

"Sure," he says, doing what he can to sell it. "It's been a bit of a dry spell for me." He makes a point of leering at her chest for emphasis, and she lets out a giggle, wrapping an arm across his back as he drops some bills on the table for his drink and excuses the two of them.

By the time they make it to her car, Will's nearly falling over. He can feel the sedative effecting him, but not nearly as much as he's letting her think it is. He's a bit woozy, but nothing worse than a bad head cold, even as he feigns near-unconsciousness, leaning heavily against the car.

There's heavy footsteps around him as his eyes drift closed. Two men. Not, Will is thankful to see, the same men who were with Eiko earlier.

"You should have stayed out of sight longer," the woman says. "He might have seen you."

"He didn't see a thing. Guy had his eyes closed," one of them snaps.

"Money," she demands, and from the sounds being made Will's pretty sure they just passed her a wad of bills. With his eyes closed he keeps his attention on his other senses, imitating unconsciousness where he's slumped against the car. One of the men grabs him, man-handling him in place, and the other one curses.

"Careful," he snaps. "Do you want to wake him up?"

"He drank the whole thing," the woman says, her voice already at a distance.

"Then he's got enough in him to put an elephant on its ass," the first man says. "Get him in the back seat."

Hilariously, one of them thinks it's a good idea to put _handcuffs_ on him as if he couldn't just snap right out of them. Neither thinks to check for his phone, which either means they're idiots or only taking him to a temporary location, but one _does_ think to drop his hand onto his face before they snap on the second cuff.

With anyone else it might have worked—the brain's desire to not slap yourself with with your own hand is pretty powerful—but Will's got more control with that, and they buy it.

Will has no idea where they're going, but Will really can't wait to get there.


	34. Chapter 34

The car ride takes around fifteen minutes of city driving. Will's position isn't exactly comfortable, but he's had _much_ worse. He lets his mind wander as they drive, trying to work out if he's missed anything.

But he doesn't think he has. The whole thing seems entirely out of nowhere. There's no warning signs, no hints. Considering he spent two hours at the event and doesn't even remember seeing the woman at speed dating, it's entirely possible she was brought in when someone else reported seeing him there. He's practically a public figure, and while he obviously can't check right then, he doesn't doubt _someone_ posted on social media about seeing him.

There's still a lot of questions though: were they _specifically_ after him, or was he part of a larger group of potential targets? The level of sedatives used imply he's the target, but it's also possible that the choice of target was picked after the first event.

When they stop, Will gets the amusing experience of staying completely limp and letting a number of mooks try and carry him. Will isn't a light guy, and there's a whole lot of cursing and swearing as they pull him out of the car.

"Don't drop him!" Someone snaps. "The boss is going to have your hide."

Which means there's a _boss._ Good to know. Will's already wondering how long he's going to have to play at being unconscious, but he gets his answer pretty quickly.

"He's here," the first man he heard says. "What the hell do you want us to do now? Do you have any idea how _risky_ this is?"

"Shut the fuck up," someone says. Will can hear someone get smacked, but there has to be at least seven or eight people around him, and figuring out who's hitting who is beyond even him. "Do we know when he's waking up?"

"He's not," someone else says. There's movement on his left, and he hears the clink of metal on metal. "We run an IV line of sedatives into him to keep him out until everything's done."

Whoops. There's no way they're going to get an IV line into his _left_ side, which kills any possibility of maintaining the illusion. He waits though, holding his position right until he feels his sleeve slide up, followed by a noise of confusion by the man at his side.

Then he springs into action.

Will does a simple no-hand kick up, leaping to his feet as he snaps the chain holding the cuffs together in one jerk of his arms. Things go to shit around him in _record_ time, but at the very least he doesn't have to wonder who's behind things: the array of black colored masks around him makes the perpetrator _very_ obvious, albeit with a few unclear details left untouched.

His numbers are off: there's nine of them. None of them are prepared for what he brings to the table, and only two have their guns ready for him. He takes them first, breaking one's wrist and grabbing his handgun from the air as it falls. He's suddenly happy for all his non-lethal training, because it makes it that much easier to squeeze off four shots—all the gun has in it, considering the weight—at nice, non-lethal points.

There's a lot of screaming.

It's not nearly as exciting as fighting a Kryptonian, but there's less at risk here. None of his team are in danger. The only person who's in danger is _him,_ and he doesn't even really consider the danger right then to be actual _danger._ None of them are a threat. It's not a wrecking ball going through a brick wall, it's a wrecking ball going through tissue paper. By the time he's taken out six, the other three break, running for their lives as he goes after them. One he shoots in the leg with a discarded gun he snatches off the ground, while the other he takes down by simply flinging the gun at his back hard enough to knock off his feet.

He makes the last one personal. Leaving the rest in a screaming, sobbing pile, he simply chases the ninth man down on foot, taking him down with a tackle as the hysterical man screams. Will clamps a hand over his mouth, leaning over him and making no attempt to suppress the no doubt deranged looking smile.

As much as he loves his life, sometimes he really _does_ miss this.

"Listen carefully," he says. "You made a mistake when you took me. The others might have been nice about it, but I'm not going to be. Unfortunately for you, you're the last man intact, so you get to be the one to tell me where your boss is."

He doesn't even make any threats, just removes his hand from the man's mouth and watches as he practically trips over himself to provide Will with every single piece of information he can.

"Black—Black Mask. He's coming here. He'll be—he'll be here in a couple of minutes," he sobs.

"Is he waiting for a signal?"

The sobbing man nods desperately.

"You're going to give him that signal," Will says. "Go on."

The man's probably only thirty five, shaking like a leaf as he fishes out his radio. Will presses a hand over his mouth again, looking him deep in the eyes, still leaning over him.

"Deep breath," he says. "Through your nose. We don't want your voice shaking."

He waits until he does, and then lifts his hand, letting him call in it.

"Everything's ready here, boss," he says, swallowing down his nerves.

Will would know Roman's voice anywhere, and it's his voice that answers back.

"Where the hell's Gio?"

"He's handling the sedation himself," the mook says, which Will thinks is pretty good improvisation for a man who has, if the smell is anything to go by, actually pissed himself.

"Tell him I'll be there in five," Roman says and hangs up.

Will leaves the caller right where he fell, trusting that he's too horrified to actually get back up. A few of Roman's men are straight up unconscious, but most of them are awake in varying states. Will clocks two who are definitely _faking_ unconsciousness, but considering how things went for them he's less worried about them doing to him what he did to them and more expecting them to continue pretending to be out until the danger's passed.

One actually makes a genuine attempt to stop him, firing at him with a concealed gun when Will gets close. Will doesn't have his ikon suit, but he's fast enough to minimize the damage. The bullet takes a strip off his shoulder as Will reaches down, grabbing the gun with his nth metal hand and _squeezing._

The gun crumples. His metal hand's even stronger than his flesh one, and the shooter makes a terrified little whimpering noise.

"You can all hear me," Will says as he stands up. "So here's the rule. Stay down and shut up, and you can all make it out of here alive and intact. Try and warn your boss what he just brought down upon himself and you'll find out that I don't take kindly to kidnapping attempts."

The room's dead silent as Will paces towards the most likely entrance. He sticks close to the wall, slipping a stolen handgun into his waistband, and waits the few minutes he needs to until he hears a car pulling up. He has to circle the warehouse they've brought him to, sticking close to the wall to minimize his profile, and then waits just beside the door.

If Roman was _smart,_ he'd peek in the door. He'd come in slowly. Instead, one of his men simply pulls the door open and strides right on in before slamming to a halt at the sight of what amounts to a pile of bodies.

"What the—"

"Boss!" One of the aforementioned bodies yells, ignoring Will's warning. "Run—"

It doesn't matter. By that point Roman and two of his men are already mostly in the door, and it's too late to go back. Will clotheslines the front two men before they can get to their weapons, dropping them to the floor, and leaps for Roman.

Roman's faster. He pulls the gun up even as Will grabs the front of his gun, firing desperately into Will's palm.

Which is why Will used his _left_ arm, the bullets richochetting off his hand harmlessly.

Or harmlessly for him. One of them goes astray, hitting Roman in the side, and he drops, still trying to get away. He's got more men behind them, but Will pays them very little attention, only focusing on them long enough to pull his gun from his belt, dispatching each with two quick shots.

Roman's running for the car, but just like with his mook less than ten minutes earlier, Will chases him down. He reaches Roman the same time Roman reaches his car, and rather than pulling the door open and diving inside, Will body checks him into it, Roman's body flipping over the hood like a rag doll.

"FUCK!" Roman screams as he slams into the ground on the other side.

Will leaps the hood, landing on poor Roman's arm, and he makes sure to apply _all_ the pressure his weight gives him, hearing the bone snap as he pins Roman to the ground by his forearm.

"So," Will says, squatting down in front of Roman. "It seems like we need to have a talk."

If Roman had a knife—and Will suspects he does—he probably could do some real damage at the range he's at. But Roman, in Will's experience, isn't stupid enough to try.

For that matter, he's not stupid enough for this plan either. Even knowing that Roman's tried to grab Damian before, he understands those were _very_ different circumstances. That was a child who was supposed to be helpless, and Will is anything but. Will is _Deathstroke,_ and unless Slade's been bullshitting him, Deathstroke's nearly as much of a household name here as it was back at home.

Kidnapping Deathstroke sounds like a monumentally stupid idea. Nearly suicidal. And considering the fact that Roman managed to get out of prison without anyone knowing it...

"You're going to tell me who's pulling the strings," Will says. "Then you're going back to Blackgate."

"You're not exactly giving me a lot of incentive here," Roman croaks. He's obviously in an awful lot of pain.

"Roman, let's not fuck around. You aren't stupid enough to think this is a good plan. The only reason you did this was because your hand was forced. Someone used you, because you were an expendable tool to them. I'm going to go right on and assume it's the same person who got you out of prison." Safe bet, anyway. "So you're going to give me a name."

"Fuck you," Roman says and spits in his face.

"Era," Will says simply.

There is a _noise_ behind Will. It's a very distinct noise, one that he's heard several times in his life, but he doubts Roman's heard it before. Roman doesn't have to though: Roman can, looking past Will, see exactly what it looks like when a Kryptonian lands hard enough to dent the earth.

Will doesn't want to ruin the effect by glancing over his shoulder to check, but he's _really_ hoping that Era's got his heat vision charging up for that _really_ intimidating impression he used to do. From Roman's reaction—extreme alarm—Will's pretty sure he does.

"Do you require assistance?" Era asks from behind him, and Will grins down at Roman.

"Nope," Will says. "I think Roman here was right about to give me a name. From one former villain to another, he knows the kind of rules I play by."

Roman's hard to read—he literally lacks the facial muscles whose twitching normally gives people away—but Will's pretty sure he's scared. Will isn't playing by the rules he expected. Hell, he's pretty sure Roman _genuinely_ thinks Will's going to snap his neck (or let his Kryptonian friend do it) if he doesn't give up the answer.

"Luthor," he says. "He got me out. He wanted blood samples from you. Genetics. Some kind of mad scientist shit like that."

Which explains why they didn't check for his phone. They weren't going to keep him long: they were going to get their samples and bolt.

"Where are you delivering them to him?" Will asks. He's expecting to have to drag it out of Roman, but he gives it up easily.

"He was going to have a guy come pick it up at my base tomorrow."

Well, Will sure as hell isn't waiting around for that. Will stands up, stepping back off Roman's destroyed forearm, and pulls out his phone, dialing emergency services.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I've got five gunshot wounds, multiple broken bones, some head trauma—"

"Address?"

Will looks around. He's got absolutely no idea, really. He doesn't recognize this part of Gotham, really.

"Warehouse," he says. "You'll have to track my phone, because I don't actually have one." It's dark, which means he can't just have Era float in the sky unless he wants to cause a panic.

"Are you in any danger?"

It takes a lot not to laugh.

"No," he says. "Danger's passed."

"Can you tell me a bit more about what happened?"

"Well, since you asked..." Will says, and resigns himself to standing around over Roman Sionis's seriously injured body while emergency services heads towards them.

It's going to be a fun conversation with the Wilson-Waynes to say the least.


	35. Chapter 35

The police take eight and a half minutes to reach his location, a time considerably lengthened by the fact that Will's just at one of many, _many_ warehouses in a large area filled with nothing but slightly worn down warehouses. In the dark, and lacking anything approximating a street address, finding which one is like finding a needle in a haystack.

But they do, eventually. There's a whole fleet of police and ambulances that hit the scene with impressive efficiency. Many of them are no doubt old hands at the whole thing, and with the League's stranglehold on superpowered crime, gang violence and organized crime no doubt make up a bulk of what the Gotham police have to put up with. Will gets pulled over to the side by some officers to tell his story, and while he has a brief moment of wondering if he's going to end up in trouble for the sheer amount of violence he just dished out, after the interview starts he realizes there's no risk.

For one, he's still wearing the snapped handcuffs. For another, the sedatives—strong enough to kill almost anyone but him—are still sitting around in the warehouse.

Era's still there which means he also has to be interviewed, but his summary of events is illustriously brief.

"I was informed by Slade that Will had gone willingly with his captors in order to confirm their intentions. Due to concerns over his well being, Bruce tracked his cell phone so that I could ensure Will's safety. When Will called for me, I arrived on scene in order to provide assistance, but was inevitably not needed."

Attempts to illicit further details from him end in failure. As far as Era's concern, that's all there is to the story.

A dark blue blur zips under the police line to collide with Will's legs, and when Will looks down he finds Thad has already latched onto him.

"I knew you'd be okay," he says as the cops make confused noises, clearly unsure of what exactly they're supposed to be doing. Thad shouldn't be past the police line, only he's obviously a kid, and none of them wants to try to pry him off Will.

"Of course I'd be fine," Will says. "You weren't worried about me, were you?"

Thad looks up and then shakes his head.

"Bruce was," he says. "Bruce knows that you would put yourself at risk, and he didn't want that. Did you figure it out?"

"I did," Will confirms. "Which is why I'm going to need to talk to the League so they can look into things."

He's not stupid. He's not going to go charging off to hunt down Lex Luthor on his own. If Lex was willing to risk Roman getting caught, that means he's far enough away from the fallout zone that the odds of him being found are slim. Finding him is going to be a prolonged effort, not a spur of the moment venture.

Despite how awkward the police are about it, Will does end up going down to the station with them to give proper testimony. His interviewer seems alarmed at the level of detail Will is able to relay, asking him repeatedly if he's _sure._

"We don't want any guesses here," he says, and Will rolls his eyes.

"I've got a near perfect memory," he says. "I could tell you the full names of every guy in my unit, the day I last heard any given song... this is nothing. It only just happened."

By the time he's done with the interview, Bruce and Slade are waiting for him in the lobby with Thad and Era.

"League business?" Slade prompts immediately. He looks casual as can be, like the whole thing is just another day, but Bruce looks deeply concerned.

"League business," Will confirms. "Thad, run back to the hotel and tell the others everything's fine? Era, go with him."

Thad clearly knows he's being sent away so that the three of them can talk, but he doesn't protest, nodding once before zipping away, with Era taking off behind him.

Will waits to explain until they're back in the car, and only then does he lay it out for them. Everything that happened, but also everything he suspects.

"Roman's a bit part. Considering the reduced scale—genetic samples—it's not impossible that Roman could have pulled this off. He was treating me as if I had your level of regeneration."

"Which you almost did," Slade points out.

"Which I almost did," Will agrees. "Which implies there's a good chance Lex has an informant within ARGUS providing information, but not one so close to Villain or Victoria that they knew the serum failed."

"You should contact Villain and told him to hold off on development," Bruce says. "You need to keep your regeneration for as long as—"

"No."

Bruce seems taken aback, twisting around in his seat.

"Will, you were almost kidnapped. You need to be safe."

"With whatever serum Villain comes up with, I'll be as safe as Slade is right now. I want it the moment it's done."

"Slade wasn't almost kidnapped," Bruce says desperately, and Slade reaches out with his free hand, resting it on Bruce's forearm. After a moment, Bruce settles, clearly settled by the gesture.

"He knows the risk," Slade reminds Bruce. "He just considers getting himself aging to be more important than the extremely unlikely chance that Lex pulls the same plan twice."

"In the event I didn't have my regeneration, I wouldn't have taken the same risks," Will points out. "I had every reason to believe the drink was drugged, so I only took a small bit at first so I could gauge _how_ drugged. I knew my limitations and acted within them to get the most information possible from the situation."

"And now we know Lex is out," Bruce says, letting out a sigh as he reaches up, rubbing between his eyes. "You made the right choice, as much I don't like anyone taking this sort of risk. We'll get the League after things... figure out how he got out. How he got _Roman_ out."

"Roman was in Blackgate," Slade clarifies for Will's sake. "Lex _should_ be in Belle Reve."

"If this turns out to be another one of Waller's schemes backfiring, so _help me,"_ Bruce snarls. "I have had it up to here with that woman."

"We don't even know it's her," Slade points out. "Could be a lot of things. There's always going to be corrupt people in positions of power, and it's part of our job to get them out of those positions."

"Considering Lex's risk level, I can probably convince them to let Diana use her lasso..." Bruce says. "Getting him back in a cell is the most important thing right now."

"He's not going to be easily caught," Will says as they pull into the hotel parking lot. "If we assume Roman was in his pocket because he got Roman out of Blackgate, than him forcing Roman to enact this particular plan means he was willing to take the risk... and knowing Luthor, that means the risk was probably minimal."

"He's no doubt well away from the area," Slade agrees. "There's no chance we're going to find him anytime soon, but at least we know we're looking for him now."

It's better than nothing. Thad's waiting at the entrance to the hotel when the arrive with a new shirt for Will, who strips off the damaged one and pulls on the new one. There's blood on the old one, and in light of Luthor's apparent interest in his genetic material, he opts to let Era burn the old one since they lack an easier way of disposal. His only injury was the bullet that grazed his shoulder, but it's already passed having scabbed up and well on its way to healing.

"So we've got everything done?" Slade asks. It's late. _Very_ late. But everyone's still waiting inside the hotel for them to get back, with Joey heading right on over to check and make sure he's intact.

"It's a kidnapping," Will says. "Not anything you need to worry about."

 _Some people are worried about kidnappings, pop,_ Joey signs. _But I'm going to get back to bed._

"Everyone should," Will says. "Nothing interesting's happening this late, so get to bed." He herds Damian and Thad towards the elevator, and Slade nods at him discretely.

Interesting things _are_ going to be happening... they're just League only.


	36. Chapter 36

Thad absolutely doesn't want to go to class the next day, but Will isn't giving him a choice. He sends him off first thing in the morning and then goes to find out what Slade and Bruce have been up to.

The answer, of course, turns out to have been _a lot._

Bruce is on the phone up in their shared room, while Slade's apparently just lounging around. It's Slade who answers the door when Will knocks, waving him in and gesturing for him to sit.

"What have i missed?" Will asks, half paying attention to Bruce's apparently painfully boring conversation.

"He's gone," Slade says as he sinks down into his own seat. "Body double in his cell who won't identify himself. Before you ask, no, we have no idea how long ago he swapped."

"Roman?"

"Same thing," Slade says. "We've already made progress on that one. Warden has some good leads, and we think we know who was guilty there. Belle Reve though? No ideas."

"Fantastic," Will grunts. "So Luthor's in the wind, he's apparently interested in my genetics for some reason, and we have no clues or hints as to why."

"Small mercies," Bruce says he wraps up his phone call. "The real Roman is back in prison, at least."

"He's barely a threat," Slade says dismissively. "Sorry if I'm not treating him like a genuine risk when _Lex Luthor_ is out there."

"We all agree Luthor's the bigger thread," Bruce says. "Clark and his family are on high alert. Considering Luthor's interests, the odds are high he's going to end up targeted eventually."

"Do we _know_ Luthor's interests?" Will asks. "Does he have... I don't know, a manifesto?"

"Nothing of the sort," Slade confirms. "It's a lot of guesswork."

"Thad's future is the best hint we have, then," Will says. "He's invested in the fate of humanity enough to swap sides. I imagine he dislikes Kryptonians the way he did back on my world. Maybe he has plans with the clones?"

"I hope not," Bruce groans. "Hopefully we're lucky, and he lays low for a long time."

There's a knock at the door, and all three heads swing around to stare at it. It's Bruce who leaps to his feet first, heading over to get the door and finding one of the hotel staff outside.

"Mr. Wayne-Wilson? You have a guest downstairs."

"Ah!" Bruce says. "He's early. Sorry you two, can I borrow the room?"

Will and Slade excuse themselves, and apparently Will's door a poor job hiding his confusion, because Slade simply steers him down the hallway towards the elevators. On the way they pass an older blond man who gives Slade a polite nod on his way past. Will glances over his shoulder, but Slade doesn't give him the option to stop, only taking his hand off Will's back when they're in the elevator.

"Who...?"

"Bruce's therapist."

"Bruce still has a therapist?" Will's heard him mentioned before, but only ever in the past tense. Bruce _did_ go to therapy. As far as Will knows, Thad, Joey, and sometimes him and Jason are the only people still attending.

"He keeps his options open," Slade says. "He was... quite distressed last night, even if he held it together. In times like that, he prefers to check in with his therapist rather than trying to ride through things on his own."

"Last night?" Will asks, baffled. "...Because Luthor's free?"

Slade actually cuffs the back of his head, shooting him an annoyed look as they step out into the lobby.

"Because you were, however briefly, kidnapped. Bruce has issues with people being kidnapped. He doesn't take it well."

It isn't hard to figure out _why._

"Because of... how I arrived," Will says, choosing his words carefully in light of them being effectively in public.

"And because of what happened before that to Jason. It's a touchy subject."

"Should I apologize, or—"

"Just give him some space," Slade says. "He'll move past it, it was just a bit of a shock for him. You are... perilously close to the last person anyone would expect to get kidnapped."

No kidding.

"I'll keep that in mind the next time it comes up," Will says with a snort, and Slade rolls his eyes as they part ways.

The next time Will sees Bruce he pays more attention, and while it's difficult for him to tell, he seems... well, Will _can't_ tell. He can't tell if Bruce is more high strung than usual because of what happened, or if he's more relaxed than he was because he's talked it out with someone he trusts. He could go either way, and Will just ends up frustrated, spending too much of his mental energy trying to puzzle it out.

As grim as the previous night was, Monday ends on a high note.

"Tomorrow afternoon, we can start moving our things into our rooms. The bedrooms are all done enough, although parts of the house are still unfinished," Bruce announces to a nearly unanimous cheer. "Considering our varied schedules, I'll be heading over tomorrow morning with Slade and Alfred to do a final walk-through and make sure the bedrooms are all complete... or at least livable."

"The really only need to be livable," Jason says. "You could put my bed on bare cement and I'd still want to sleep there. I'm... I mean, the hotel is nice, but—"

"You don't need to explain," Bruce says with a wave of his hand. "I get it. Everyone's tired of hotels. Everyone wants to sleep in a real bed."

Will knows that's true for _him._ He wants a bed. He wants a room. He spent decades of his life without any place he could consider his home, and now that he's had a taste...

He doesn't want to let it go.

"Can everyone please ensure they have their things packed so we can move things all in one go?" Alfred asks. "I understand it might be quite a lot to ask, but I would prefer not to make multiple trips."

"I've only got the one bag," Will says. His gear's already been put into storage, although he's not entirely clear where that storage _is._ All the furniture has to have been kept somewhere, and he suspects he's going to spend a lot of time shuffling it back and forth very soon.

Hopefully with help. Hopefully with _Kryptonian_ help, because letting Era or Clark or one of Clark's boys carry a couch through the sky is a hell of a lot easier than loading it into the back of a truck.

"I'm ready," Damian says. There's an obvious pause where he's clearly going to ask, but in the end he doesn't, opting instead for silence.

"You excited for the manor?" Will asks, nudging Thad. For Thad, it'll be the first hope he's ever had. The Titans headquarters was many things, but it wasn't a _home._

Will wants that for Thad. He wants him to have a _home._


	37. Chapter 37

If Thad didn't want to go to school before, he absolutely doesn't then. With the move in looming just over the horizon, it takes a considerable amount of wheedling to get him to go to class the following morning.

Thad's stuff is already ready and waiting to go, and Will makes sure his is the same before lunch. Others have more stuff to carry or pack, but Will's always packed light, and Thad isn't any different.

Slade and Will spend the middle of the day shuttling their things over to the house. It's been weeks since Will saw it, and he has to admit that he's impressed by how fast it's gone up. While part of the building—mostly the ground floor—is still obviously under construction, the top two floors look more or less complete. The grounds are what Will thinks needs the most work, and there's a ton of supplies and construction supplies lying around just to the side of the entrance.

Not that he gets to look in. Slade won't let him actually go into the house until they're all there.

The day feels like a lot of make-work, but he does end up visiting the Kents at their house.

"You're not going to have a kitchen for a while," Slade says. "Too many complicated parts that can't be rushed. Clark said you could use the kitchen if you want... or we could just order out."

"We're not ordering out," Will says. "Era won't eat fast food."

"...Era won't eat fast food?" Slade asks, baffled. "What?"

"He has high standards, apparently," Will says with a snort. "I can make do with the Kents. Get Thad to run the food back and forth for us."

"Assuming we have a dining room."

"Are you not _sure?"_ Will asks as Slade knocks on the Kents front door.

One of the boys—Will thinks it's probably Yen—pops the door open immediately, and then immediately turns and... whistles. There's a tune to it, a rhythm that Will doesn't recognize, and a moment later Clark arrives. He's dressed like he should be in the office, his tie ever so slightly askew, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he sees them.

"Oh good," he says. "I thought it was Perry coming to check up on me. He's hinted he's going to drop by sometime this week, and he... the boys..." Clark makes a strained noise.

"Doesn't get along with them?" Slade guesses.

"More like gets along with them too well. I know he won't, but he's a bit too much of a journalist for me to feel entirely comfortable leaving him alone without supervision in the house. I had a nightmare the other day about him writing a whole article about the boys favorite foods..."

Clark shows Will the kitchen, walking him through everything. He looks almost embarrassed when he can't quite figure out how to turn on the stove, and scratches absentmindedly at the back of his neck.

"Sorry," he says. "I normally just... ah, heat vision things."

"Which he's not supposed to," Yen says. "Mom gets angry at dad for just using his heat vision."

"She wouldn't get angry if you didn't tell her. I can cook just fine without using the stove. I still use the oven for things."

"I'm sure I'll manage to turn on the stove by myself," Will says. He's cooked in much worse, and while it's less convenient than cooking in the manor, it's a lot better than having to compete for space with a bunch of hotel staff.

"Feel free to share with us," Ren says, popping his head around the corner. "Jon talks about your cooking all the time."

Slade's eyes bounce between the two boys before turning to Clark.

"You going to get them in school at some point?"

"I've been home schooling," Clark says. "Making sure they're... ready for it. We're going to start them in September at the same school Jon's at."

Which Will assumes is where he is right then.

Will and Slade excuse themselves back to the manor to find that Jason and Joey have already arrived with there stuff. Bruce is already inside, and it's not all that long before Era descends from the sky. He doesn't reach the ground before Thad arrives, screeching to a halt in front of the group. The last to arrive are Damian and Alfred, who both get help moving their things.

"Everything out of the hotel?" Bruce calls as he heads down the front steps.

"Everything's here," Slade confirms. "Should we all grab our stuff, or leave it outside while you give us the tour?" He looks amused, which is a nice compliment to how blatantly excited Thad looks about the whole thing. Thad's practically vibrating in place, and Will reaches out, resting a hand on Thad's shoulder to ground him.

"Tour first," Bruce says. "Then everyone can move things around. Shoes on in the ground floor—there's too much construction, and I'm not risking anyone stepping on a nail."

He runs them through the ground floor at record speed. Very little of it is finished, and it's clear to everyone that Bruce has convinced the workers to focus elsewhere. The start is the entrance hall, a large space with two staircases leading up. It's on a lower level compared to the rest of the house, and Will cocks his head, considering.

"...Is the house raised?"

"We have a sub-level," Bruce says. "Three-quarter basement, or whatever you want to call it. So it's the cave, the lower level, we're on the ground floor, and then we have two above it."

"That seems like a lot of space," Alfred says. "Is all that necessary?"

"Absolutely not," Slade says. "But Bruce wanted to future-proof things."

The south wing of the house is a set of four rooms that Bruce tells them will eventually be guest rooms, which lead out onto an empty space.

"Pool," Bruce says, and then hesitates. "...Probably. We haven't decided."

"Pool would be neat," Jason says. "In the summer, anyway. Not so much right now."

"Well good, because there's already one planned," Slade says with a snort. "Because _I_ want a pool."

"To soak his old man bones in," Damian says, and Slade goes to cuff him upside hte head before second guessing himself. Damian smirks, clearly amused he can now get away with damn near anything, and then lets Bruce her them back the other way.

"This is the wing you want," he says, completely missing that everyone else has stopped to gawk. There's a lounge area just above the reception hall, with a massive set of windows that look out over the grounds.

Through the windows, it's impossible to miss the second structure slowly going up maybe a hundred feet away.

"Bruce," Will says. "What is _that?"_ Bruce slams to a halt and then backtracks to join them by the window.

"The guest house."

"I should have known," Will grumbles. "There's only four rooms. That's not enough for the _whole Justice League_ to visit."

"Even if _just_ Tim and Dick's families came that wouldn't be enough rooms!" Bruce protests. "A guest house is the perfect choice. It can just stay empty if no one is in it."

Truthfully, Will thinks it's a smart idea. It's easier to get someone to clean it, there's less concerns about privacy, and it stops Bruce from trying to build enough rooms that every member of the family has their own.

But that isn't going to stop him from teasing him.

"Are you sure it's large enough?" Will says, appraising the building which could, without question, hold ten bedrooms.

"I don't know," Bruce says, chewing on his lip. "I was worried, but Slade says—"

"Bruce," Slade says, exasperated. "He's kidding. You're kidding, right?" Slade squints at Will, who smirks right back at him.

"Maybe a little bit," he says. "I'm sure it'll be just fine. You've planned for everything, right?"

Bruce herds them through the north side of the house, which is slightly more finished than the south... but still far from finished. The library is just off the entrance hall, while the kitchen areas are a little bit farther off... but much more expansive.

"No ballroom, I'm afraid," Bruce says. "It was a trade off."

"We don't host balls anymore," Jason says. "So... oh well?"

There's a banquet hall though, large enough to host more or less everyone they could potentially want to have over for dinner. There's a family dining room like the one they're used to, and then a _kitchen_ that Will wants to get to know.

"Breakfast nook," Bruce adds, gesturing to a corner. It's a neat little circle that's already had the benches installed, even if the table's missing. It looks out over the grounds too. "For... well, any time we're not eating together."

The last part of the ground floor is barely finished: a massive workout room, divided up into different areas. There's no equipment, but there's loose partitions for showers and change rooms.

After that, Bruce parades them back to the front hall.

"Shoes off," he says. "Everything upstairs is... at least finished enough. There's a few rooms that need to be finalized, but it should be finished _enough."_

 _What about downstairs?_ Joey asks.

"Not even close to finished," Slade says. "Downstairs is garage, laundry, storage, wine cellar, and then the primary cave entrance."

"Which is a big advantage," Jason says. "We can just... have contractors work on the cave."

"They're doing the bulk of the work," Bruce confirms. "But there's still things that I want to do myself. Now... upstairs?"


	38. Chapter 38

Bruce isn't kidding about things upstairs being nearly finished. From the moment they ascend the stairs it's like night and day. While the downstairs is covered in plastic and littered with unfinished walls and features, the upstairs is nicely carpeted, and aside from being bare—very little of the furniture has been moved in—looks more or less complete.

The center of the second floor is a relatively narrow landing that looks out over both the reception hall and the lounge. Era observes the railing for a moment before cocking his head.

"Convenient," he says.

"Oh!" Thad says. "You could just fly straight up here rather than taking the stairs."

"An unintentional bonus," Bruce admits. "But I did think it would make it easier for Jon and the rest of Clark's family when they visited. Who wants to see their room first?"

Thad is _literally_ vibrating in place, which gives everyone a pretty good idea of just how excited he is. Bruce clears his throat, hiding a smile behind a grin, and then addresses him.

"Why don't we do Thad? He's one of the ones nearer to the entrance."

The bedrooms are _big._ Much bigger than the hotel rooms, and even bigger than the room Thad had back in the Titan's base. The bedroom opens out onto a small balcony, while a room to the side that Will assumed was the bathroom instead leads into a small (mostly bare) room with two more rooms. The room's are all furnished with what looks like brand new furniture, a fact that Will's happy for, because he wasn't looking forward to having to shuffle furniture around.

"How big _is_ this place?" Will asks, gawking.

"Everyone has a bedroom, a balcony, a... the floor plans call it a _sitting room,_ but it's a spare room for whatever you want to do with it, a walk in closet, and then a bathroom."

The bathroom is, in Will's opinion, larger than most college dorms. There's a shower and a tub in each, and Thad's practically bouncing off the walls as he takes it all in.

They do Damian next, whose room is largely the same, even if the layout is flipped. Damian's sitting room is already pre-converted into a space for Portia and Titus, and Will catches sight of a brief lip wobble from Damian at the sight of it.

"Two other rooms on this wing, but they aren't yet finished," Bruce confirms. "In theory, Tanya, and and empty fourth."

The other side is effectively a mirror. Every room is slightly different, the features slightly tweaked. Era's room is located at the back of the house and has the largest balcony to allow him to take off freely. Alfred's room is close to the center of the house, while Will's has a smaller balcony but a larger bathtub.

"Last room for Thomas?" Will guesses, and Bruce nods.

"When it's time, the room will be waiting for him. It's actually finished, since we needed at least one spare room in case we had guests while we're under construction."

Not a bad idea, and Thomas is the closest. There's a few other features to the second floor—two hidden staircases that descend down, and a discretely hidden elevator that Bruce informs them isn't work just yet—and then Bruce is guiding them up towards the top floor.

 _Now I'm just worried,_ Joey signs. _If the rooms down here are this big, how big are the ones upstairs?_

The answer, of course, is big.

The top floor isn't as large as the second floor, but it's still _big._ The side closer to the entrance leads out onto a large patio that looks out towards Gotham, while the opposite side has a gorgeous (but fairly subdued) infinity pool and hot tub that Will's eyeing jealously. The rest of the floor is split into two sides, which Bruce helpfully informs them are nearly identical of each other.

Each side has a large open space that Bruce originally suggests is for storage before Slade leans over to Joey with a grin and gives him a wink.

"Or a studio space," he says helpfully. "Lots of room for you to paint in here."

There's actually two bedrooms—a larger one and then an auxiliary—an absolutely massive bathroom, two closets, a living area, an office...

"This is too big," Will mutters to himself. "This is practically a house in itself."

Bruce goes pink, and nods.

"It's large enough you could live comfortably without needing to leave for.. .almost any reason," he admits. "I wanted to make sure you'd have everything."

Ah. _Then_ Will gets it. Bruce is trying to hedge his bets, making absolutely sure Jason and Joey won't find themselves lacking for anything... and thus won't consider moving out of the manor.

Apparently Will isn't the only one thinking it, because Jason leans over, leaning up to peck Bruce's cheek.

"Thanks dad," he says, and Bruce goes even redder. "Lots of room for Joey to get paint all over your brand new house."

"Please do not."

 _I can use drop sheets, you know,_ Joey says. _We've seen everything, right?_

"No last minute surprises," Bruce confirms. "We should probably go get our things."

With the furniture already in place, it's simply a matter of heading downstairs, grabbing their bags, and hauling it all the way back upstairs. Thad helps with the smaller bags, the fastest of all of them, while Era airlifts the heavier bags up like the world's strangest airlift.

Will unpacks, but there's not much to actually unpack. His clothes go in the closet, his mickey ears go atop the desk, and after some consideration he carefully places Joey's family portrait leaning up against the wall.

He can't decide if he wants to hang it. He's not sure if he's ready.

He _does_ fetch Deathstroke, debating the pros and cons of hanging it before deciding to ask Bruce for some kind of a mount for it.

With his tablet dropped on the side table of his new bed, it occurs to Will that he's done unpacking. He has nothing else to display, nothing else to set up. After giving it some consideration, he leaves his room and heads to check on Thad, who he discovers... doing the same thing _he_ was doing.

Thad's just sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands because he's already out of things to do.

"Already done?" Will asks as he pops his head in the open door to Thad's bedroom.

"Yeah," Thad confirms. "I'm all done."

"Super speed makes it pretty fast," Will says, as if _that's_ the reason Thad's done so fast and not the fact that he's got even fewer material possessions than Will himself does.

Although Will supposes that Thad isn't even the person in the house with the least...

"Why don't we grab Era and see how he's doing?"

Era isn't even sitting. He's just standing in his room, looking at nothing as he simply _does nothing._

"Era," Will says, and Era turns to stare at them. "Wanna come check out the grounds?"

There's one last thing he has to show Thad, and he wants to do it _before_ Thad stumbles onto it.

"What do you know about my family?" Will asks as they head down the stairs to the entrance-way, pulling their shoes on as they do.

"That you left some of them behind," Thad says. It's right, but it still hurts, and the way Thad's face pinches with worry tells Will that his expression probably wasn't pleasant.

"I did," he says. "I left... I left my daughter behind. Rose." Her name feels like a raw wound, better hidden behind a bandage and ignored. There's no real way for him to address it, no way to get closure, so he moves on. "But you had another older brother. Joey's older brother, Grant. It's Grant, Joey, Rose, and then you."

Thad doesn't ask, but he's obviously wondering, staring up at Will as they leave the house, heading towards what is at some point is probably going to be an actual path.

"I wasn't a great father," Will says. "Not at all. Grant... he died for a lot of reasons, but mostly because he didn't have anyone he could trust, so he got taken advantage of by the wrong people. Joey ended up hurt by people who were coming after me, and Rose..." He keeps having to talk about her. "She chose to stay behind. When everything settled in the other dimension I'm from, they tried to set things right. One of the things they did was brought Grant's body here so I could bury him and so that Joey and I could visit."

"Is this topic of conversation relating to the cemetery out back?" Era asks, and Will glances at him, hesitating for a moment, and then nods.

"Does that mean there's another... another Joey and Grant and Rose here...?" Thad asks.

"Joseph—Slade's Joey—died when he was young. The same incident that left Joey unable to talk, so we don't... we don't discuss it. Grant's still alive, but he grew up away from Slade, and they only recently met. If you wanted to know more, you'd probably be better to ask him."

"Rose?"

"That's another thing you should ask him. Their history is... complicated."

They reach the graveyard and Thad inspects the graves one by one.

"Thomas Wayne, but this world's version. The one in prison you met is... sort of the one from my world."

"He came over with Joey, right?"

Will nods, happy he doesn't have to explain _everything._ Thad has a lot of the details, he's just missing the things that _connect_ all those details together.

Some of those details are pretty important.

"So Thomas and Martha Wayne. Bruce's parents. Then Joseph. Then my Grant."

Era scans the graves as if looking for insight he's not going to find.

"Who are the others?" Thad asks, leaning over to look at the three other graves. Bruce's parents aren't far from the boys, but the al Ghul's are set a little bit away.

"Damian's family," Bruce says. "His mother, his aunt, and his grandfather."

Thad nods, but doesn't ask any questions. After a moment he reaches back, taking Will's flesh-and-blood hand and giving it a small squeeze.

"We should return to the house," Era says simply. He seems unmoved by the graves, but then Will didn't think he would be. That's not _him._ Hell, it's barely Will.

"We should," Will agrees, and then hesitates. "You know why I showed you this, Thad?"

"So I wouldn't get confused if I found them on my own?"

Will nods. The conversations' easier to have when he's prepared. Having Thad burst in the door demanding to know why Joey's got a grave out back or who Grant is would have been... difficult.

"Do you think I could ask Damian about his family?" Thad asks as they walk back towards the manor. There's a car coming up the drive that Will can see in the distance, but he doesn't bother to rush.

"You can certainly ask. Maybe he'd like to talk about them."

Not like he has any idea what Damian's thoughts on the al Ghuls are. Thad knows as well as he does, which isn't very much at all.

He's just hoping that asking goes well.


	39. Chapter 39

The Wayne-Gordon's are still in the process of unpacking their car when Will and the others reach them. It's all three of them, but right then Will's more focused on Titus's face pressed up against the window of the car's back seat. Portia's in a pet carrier, but it's obvious to Will that Tim and Barbara are having a hard time managing Jackson _and_ the two pets.

"Got it," Will says, reaching down to retrieve the pet carrier.

"Oh thank god," Tim says. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise for Damian by calling Bruce, but... you know."

They're having a hard time of it. Tim's handling Titus, while Barbara grabs her crutches, leaning against the car. Jackson waits patiently in his car seat, so Will hands Portia off to Thad, taking Titus to let Tim get Jackson.

"Lots of stairs," Will points out. "Want Era to airlift you up?"

"What happened to the elevator Bruce was bragging about?" Barbara says, looking exasperated.

"It isn't finished," Thad says, holding tight to the pet carrier. "We moved in early because everyone was tired of the hotel."

"No kidding," Tim says, setting Jackson down. "I was tired of the hotel and I barely even visited."

Era cocks his head, observing the three of them before looking down at Titus, then up to Will.

"...Should I carry someone?"

"I can manage the stairs," Barbara insists. "They're just one floor up, right?"

"Floor and a half. Ground floor's raised," Will says, and Barbara lets out an exasperated sigh before turning to the door.

"I can manage."

Titus is normally pretty well behaved, but he's clearly excited as Will brings him up the stairs. They make it halfway up before Slade leans over the railing and spots them, vanishing from sight, apparently to go fetch everyone else.

Will can hear people moving around the second floor as they make their way up the stairs, but when Damian peeks over the ledge, spotting Titus and Portia's pet carrier, and immediately bursts into tears it's a bit much for him. They end up stopping on the stairs as Damian runs down, nearly _colliding_ with the dog as he pulls him into a hug.

"Okay, that's enough," Will says. "Everyone off the stairs, this isn't the place for a big teary greeting."

He herds them up the stairs as best he can, reaching the top right as Bruce and Slade arrive, followed shortly after by Jason and Joey.

"You made it!" Bruce calls, pulling Tim into a hug. There's a lot of hugs and handshakes and _have you seen the place_ going around, and Slade ends up having to pull Damian aside to make sure that Portia and Titus stay in Damian's (safe and finished) room unless he's with them.

"Portia can have the run of the house when it's done," Slade says. "But I don't want her sneaking outside through an open door while we have construction crews moving in and out."

Damian and Thad take the pets to Damian's room to let them loose, and Bruce and Slade take Tim for a tour of the house. Barbara isn't up for that much walking—especially on what amounts to a lot of uneven ground—so they end up settling in on some seats that Jason and Joey bring down to the second floor's reception area. It's not _supposed_ to be a lounge, but it's what they have.

Will gets a message maybe ten minutes later, and when he checks it, he spots Eiko's name and excuses himself to his room to reply.

 **Eiko:** Why am I just hearing now that there was some kind of trouble Sunday night?

 **Will:** An attempted kidnapping. It didn't go well.

 **Eiko:** Please tell me it wasn't my father.

Will snorts at the idea.

 **Will:** Hopefully he's not stupid enough to try. Just Sionis causing trouble.

 **Eiko:** Wait, did this happen right after I left? You should have told me.

 **Will:** Wasn't anything you needed to worry about.

 **Eiko:** I'll get back to you in a bit. I need to go make absolutely sure my father wasn't involved.

Will leaves her too it, heading out of his room to find that the boys have returned with Titus sitting happily on Damian's feet. More chairs have appeared from somewhere (Will suspects Thad had a lot to do with that), so Will settles into one to rejoin the conversation.

Tim and Barbara don't stay long. The house isn't set up for entertaining, and it's obvious to everyone that as much as they like visiting, they were just there to drop off Titus and Portia.

They eat that evening with the Kents, and Will's happy to get a chance to cook in something that isn't a restaurant kitchen. Then it's back to the manor, skipping past the construction crews that remain.

"Most go home," Bruce clarifies. "Some of them are bringing on a new shift to get the more important stuff handled as soon as they can."

Will nods along. He wants the kitchen done, but otherwise he could take or leave most of it. The noise is kept to a minimum thanks to the manor's excellent sound proofing, and by the time Will makes it to his bed—long after enjoying an exhausting shower—he simply sinks into it and lets himself sleep.

The next few days are busy ones. Will lets Bruce know about his request for a mount for Deathstroke, and Bruce says he'll handle it. He has one ready within two days, so Will carefully mounts it on his wall. Decorative, but still within grabbing range if something comes up.

Will hears most of what's happening second hand. He hears about arrests being made and Roman being safely returned to Blackgate. He hears about the League practically tripping over itself trying to locate Luthor without success.

But most importantly, Will hears from Villain on Thursday evening.

"I'll need you to come to my office on Saturday," Villain says without any sort of preamble. Will used to like his lack of smalltalk, but now he's wondering if a _hello_ wouldn't be unwarranted.

"Do I need to bring Era or Thad?"

"Era, if you will. He probably shouldn't be necessary, but at the same time I don't think having someone who could pin you down would be unwarranted."

Who could _pin him down?_

"Hold on. What are we doing here, exactly?"

"With Victoria's help, I've finalized the serum you requested. It should, as we originally intended, cause your regeneration to more closely mirror that of Slade."

"And how exactly do you know it's going to work?" Will asks, unimpressed. He's not getting his hopes up. Not after what happened last time. Villain's response is equal parts dismissive and irritated.

"While I understand that the previous serum failed, it failed for reasons which are very clear to us. I made an error in my methodology; I attempted to ensure that the serum would be painless at the expense of effectiveness. The new serum does not have that flaw."

Will knows what _that_ means.

"I can handle some pain."

"I have no doubt you can handle some pain," Villain says, and for a moment Will can't help but feel that Villain sounds awfully _amused._ "However, I am absolutely certain that the pain will be beyond even your threshold. Thus the request for your Kryptonian assistant. Having someone to pin you down in the event you begin to thrash would be helpful."

Great. Will decides then and there to leave Thad at home, because if it's going to be that bad, he doesn't want Thad witnessing anything.

"Sure," Will says. "Saturday, then. I'll see you there."

He's not looking forward to it.


	40. Chapter 40

Will isn't sure at what point he gave up his dignity. There's no line in the sand, no clear point that he can point to and say _there, that's the point where I gave it up._

But he has.

Will simply doesn't care what the average person must think of him.

Once he's made sure Thad's off and busy on Saturday morning, Will grabs his shoes and heads up to Era's room. They leave from the balcony with Era princess carrying Will, and Will decides without question that skipping two hours of traffic is absolutely worth the risk of someone seeing him being carried around like something dainty and fragile.

Villain isn't ready for them to arrive, not expecting them for at least another thirty minutes, but he makes haste when they show up, speeding through what little preparation he needs.

"What should I expect?" Will asks. He feels a faint undercurrent of alarm when Villain has him change into a hospital gown, but he insists it's just a precaution.

"Pain," Villain says simply. "It will hurt. The new serum is effectively modifying your existing serum. I understand it hurt when you initially were given the serum?"

"That was decades ago," Will says. "Don't really remember it." He remembers it hurting, but the details are foggy the way everything before his powers kicked in are. Really, Will considers it a blessing: the less he has to remember about the time before he joined the military, the better.

"Well, it's going to hurt," Villain says, producing a vial. Will doesn't get a fancy auto-injector, just an old fashioned needle that Villain sets about preparing as Will leans down.

"Era," Will says, "if it's going to be that bad, keep me from smashing anything, alright?"

Era nods, but doesn't say anything more. Will can't decide if it's a coincidence that he seems to be quieter around Villain or not. It might be too familiar for him, or it might be something else.

"Lie back," Villain says as he prepares the injection. He doesn't have much in the way of bedside manner, getting right to the point and injecting the serum without much warning.

It takes a few minutes before Will starts feeling anything at all, during which Villain insists he remain lying down. Then Will starts to feel the faintest burn. It _hurts_ in a way he's having a hard time defining, and he clenches his jaw just in time for Villain to tap his face with a bundle of cloth.

"Bite this," he says. "I don't want you cracking your jaw and giving yourself more to fix."

Right then Will's irritated that he's being babied, but a few minutes later he's happy for it. The pain simply continues to increase second by second. It just keeps _growing,_ getting worse and worse. He keeps thinking it must be done, that it couldn't possibly be any worse, and then it _does._

It's like he's burning to death from the inside. His brain stops registering what's happening around him, although he feels like he's shaking.

He's pretty sure he blacks out, but his regeneration keeps dragging him back. Keeps bringing him back to the agony.

And then Will wakes up.

He can't quite think, can't quite figure out what's going on. It takes him easily ten seconds to register that he's back at the manor in his bed, and that it's dark outside, and that he must have... _somehow_ gotten back.

"Hng?" Will grumbles into the darkness. There's no response, and when he tries to swing himself out of bed he nearly ends up on the floor, only just catching himself. His body doesn't feel like it should. He feels... tense. Like everything in his body has been pulled so tight it's on the verge of snapping.

Will manages to find his feet and opens the door. It's still dark, and there's no one outside, so he ends up stumbling down the hall to knock at Era's door.

Will's having a hard time figuring out how long he's been standing there when Era opens the door.

"What the— what the fuck happened?"

"Doctor Villain indicated you may experience some issues with your memory in the immediate aftermath. Do you not recall going to bed?"

"I don't recall... any of it. I don't remember..."

Era cocks his head, looking Will over, and then reaches out, planting a hand on Will's shoulder and starting to march Will back towards his room as Will makes a sound of protest.

"I have already explained things to you," Era says. "Someone else can explain to you what happened in the morning, once your body has worked through the aftereffects. The dilation of your pupils indicates your body is still processing."

Will makes an attempt to fight him, but even calling it an _attempt_ is giving it far too much credit. He makes an attempt to swing, Era catches his hand easily, and then finishes marching Will back into his room and sitting him down onto his bed.

"I will stand guard."

"Just— just tell me what the fuck's going on," Will says. He feels so _not himself._ He feels sick. He shouldn't have let Villain do anything to him. The man was practically a mad scientist back in his world, and this one isn't any different. He saw what happened to Isherwood. He should have seen that as a warning.

"The new serum was successful," Era says. "Doctor Villain has already tested it extensively."

"Then why— why the fuck do I feel like this? Why do I—"

His chest feels tight. It's like he can't even breathe. He isn't used to feeling so... so helpless. So out of control. His body isn't listening to him.

"Please remain here," Era says, and then just leaves him alone. All Will can do is sit there, trying to process what the hell's even happening as he curls his legs up to his chest, trying to make his breathing even out.

And then—it can't have been more than sixty seconds but there they are—Joey and Thad are there, at the door, coming into his room.

"Will!" Thad says, sounding distressed.

Things seem to skip forward. Will knows his brain is trying to connect the dots and just _can't._ But he knows that Thad's there, and he knows that Joey's there, and right then Will decides that he doesn't need anything more than that.


	41. Chapter 41

When Will wakes again he feels groggy, but less... _that._ He feels more like he has a bad headache and less like he's in the middle of a stroke, and when he looks around and finds Thad cuddled against his side, tucked under the covers, Will instinctively pulls him a little bit closer.

Thad's eyes flutter open and he twists to look up at Will, eyes wide and confused, and after a moment Thad reaches up, pressing his hand to Will's forehead as if to check his temperature.

"...I think you're better," he says, his voice whisper-soft. "Alfred said your fever broke last night."

Great. His fever.

"What the hell did Villain _do_ to me?" Will grumbles as he goes to sit up. It requires him to untangle Thad from him, which is a loss, but at the same time he _is_ starving, so he's going to have to make do.

"He said you had to regenerate," Thad says, sitting upright. "He said a fever was _within normal parameters."_

"Next time I see him I'll be sure to remind him that me throwing him through a wall is also _within normal parameters,"_ Will grumbles to himself. Thad grabs his phone off Will's night-side table, doing... something. When Will shows obvious interest, Thad perks up and clarifies.

"I was just telling Joey and the others. They wanted to know when you woke up so they could bring you some food."

"Good," Will says. "I'm starving."

Then he looks down at himself and squints. He doesn't remember putting on pajamas. But then he also is pretty sure he was wearing different pajamas the night before.

"...Is it still Sunday?"

Thad nods. He's sitting up, and Will feels his brain slowly snapping the pieces together. He doesn't really remember anything from the night before. It's all bits and pieces. Being with Villain. Being back at home. Era. Joey and Thad...

"Were you here all night?"

Thad pauses, then nods again.

"Joey was too. He only got up a little while ago, but everyone was pretty worried about you until Alfred said you were through the worst of it. I know Bruce was yelling at Doctor Villain for not warning you enough."

Will grunt and sinks back into his pillow.

The door opens and Alfred steps inside carrying a tray of food. Everyone else immediately piles into the room, making what felt like a very large bedroom suddenly feel very small.

"Give him space," Slade instructs as Alfred sets down the tray, with Thad moving to get out of the way so he can eat. There's eggs and bacon and toast and Will is set upon them like a starving hyena. He's starving, and the moment the food hits his stomach he only feels _hungrier._

"Told you," Jason says. "I'll go get some more."

Jason and Damian excuse themselves to go fetch more food as Alfred waits for the tray. Will has a whole lot of questions, but right then he's too goddamn hungry to ask them.

"He doesn't remember much," Thad says from where he's sitting on Will's bed. "He asked a lot of questions, but I didn't get to answer all of them."

Bruce's face pinches with worry, looking Will over.

"How are you feeling?"

"Headache," Will says between bites.

"Better than you were last night," Slade says.

 _You were a mess,_ Joey signs. _You were gone so long, and then Era brought you back..._

"Someone should actually tell me from the start," Will makes himself say. The food's almost out, and he polishes off the rest, resisting the urge to lick the plate.

"I'm going to get him a drink," Thad says, and then he's gone, zipping away before anyone can protest.

It isn't a bad idea, and Alfred collects up the tray, cleaning it off to prepare for more.

"Apparently the part Doctor Villain neglected to tell us—and you, apparently—about the serum is that in order to fix your regeneration to be the same as mine, your body had to regenerate more or less _everything_ to do so. To start it was mostly just your arm, which hurt a whole hell of a lot and you kept passing out. From what Villain said he was able to test the new cells and confirm it worked, after which it was up to us to get you through it. He sent you back with Era."

"To _get me through it?"_ Will says right as Thad arrives, his arms loaded down with sports drink bottles.

"For dehydration," he says, and Will reaches out, grabbing one and starting to chug.

"You know that stupid 'every cell in your body is new in seven years' factoid? Well, it's wrong, both in general and especially for you. In your case, you regenerated every cell in your body in around twenty four hours. For some parts that wasn't a big deal—skin regenerates every month or so, so you just ended up a bit more pink than usual—and for others it was a big fucking deal."

"Like my brain," Will guesses.

"Your brain's all new. Because your body was replacing piece by piece, Villain was _fairly_ sure you weren't going to lose anything, but it was a pretty nerve wracking night for most of us. You had a couple seizures last night, but they evened out into a fever that broke early this morning. Your boys have been with you pretty much since then."

Seizures. A fever.

No wonder he felt like crap.

"So it worked?"

"Sure, it _worked,"_ Bruce says, sounding bitter as hell. "Assuming you consider you having multiple seizures to be non-issues."

Will winces. It's obvious how upset Bruce was, and Will can't blame him.

"Sorry," he says. "If I had known—"

"You don't need to apologize," Bruce says, cutting him off. "You didn't know how bad it would be. Doctor Villain, on the other hand..."

Will doesn't envy Villain right then. Bruce is clearly on a warpath.

"Spend the day resting," Slade says. "You're probably not completely done regenerating, and you'll need to recover."

What he needs is to replenish, and Will's happy when Jason and Damian arrive with more food. He ends up eating the equivalent of three meals before he feels satisfied, but Alfred insists on giving him a few multivitamins just in case.

"You probably have a number of deficiencies," Alfred says firmly. "We'll have to ensure you get the nutrients you need before you can be up and about."

He spends most of the day in bed. His head still hurts, but as the day goes on the pain eases away. Everyone else circles in and out, making sure he's never alone in case something goes wrong. When Thad needs to go shower and get dressed, Joey takes over. When Joey has calls to make, Jason subs in, reading by the bed while Will naps. When he wakes, it's Alfred, but he leaves to go prepare dinner, swapping places with Slade.

When it's just Slade, Will cracks an eye open.

"...Everyone was worried, weren't they?"

"Knew you were awake," Slade says with a grunt. "Of course everyone was worried."

"The boys?"

"Will, everyone will be fine. You missed the worst of it."

"Not exactly reassuring, considering how distressed they were when I woke up."

"Will," Slade says, and then reaches out, brushing Will's hair out of his eyes. "Relax. Let me handle everyone here. You need to just focus on recovering."

A moment later Slade seems to realize what he just did, withdrawing his hand and shaking his head.

"Alfred should have food in a moment. You're probably hungry again."

Will is. He really, really is. But right then his brain's stuck on the way Slade _brushed the hair from his eyes._ His brain keeps catching on the gesture, trying to puzzle it out, and it's... well, it's not coming.

So it's a relief when Slade excuses himself and Alfred takes over, making sure Will's gotten enough food to last through the night. His brain keeps churning over what happened—over-analyzing what was probably just a small, casual gesture—and only calms down when Thad and Joey come to say goodnight.

"School in the morning," Thad complains. "But I should stay here, right?"

 _No dice,_ Joey signs. _I've got tomorrow free, so I can keep an eye on him. So can everyone else. You need to be in class._ Joey reaches out, ruffling Thad's hair, and all Will can do is compare the two gestures, weighing them out in his head.

"I'll see you after class, then," Thad says. He hesitates, then leans over and kisses Will's temple before zipping away. Will huffs, stretching out in bed as he glances over at Joey.

 _He's a good kid,_ Joey signs. _He was really worried about you._

"Didn't mean to worry him."

 _I think I've probably got to do a better job at playing big brother for him,_ Joey signs. _I kind of got the impression that he thought that if anything happened to you he'd... have to leave or something._

"I'm hoping you all told him that was a stupid idea."

 _Not in those words,_ Joey signs. _But yeah, we told him. He's just very... unclear on his place in the family. He knows you care about him, but he's less sure about the rest of us._

"He's had the most time with Damian and I. He'll come around."

_I know, pop. Just worried about him._

"You're being a good big brother," Will says after a moment. "Really. He might not be certain of what kind of a place in the family he has, but... it's obvious to me he cares about you a lot. He trusts you."

 _He came to get me last night,_ Joey signs. _Apparently Era went to get him, and then he told Era they should get me._

"Kid's got good sense," Will says dryly. "What about you? You doing alright?"

Thad will bounce back. He's been through some particularly awful stuff, and Will's nothing if not confident in that. But Joey? It's the first time Joey's ever seen him really screwed up like that.

 _I'll be okay,_ Joey signs. _Was a bit shaken, but I'm happy you're doing better._

"Didn't mean to—"

_I know, pop. Go to sleep, alright?_

Will grumbles and sinks down a bit more into the bed.

"...You really going to just sit there watching until I fall asleep?"

_That's the plan. Love you, pop, now get some rest._

Getting to sleep with Joey sitting there is harder than it should be, but eventually Will does manage, drifting off to thoughts he can't quite bring himself to ignore.


	42. Chapter 42

Will feels much, _much_ better the following morning. His headache is down to the occasional dull throb, and the first thing he does when he wakes is send Jason—who's on guard duty when he wakes—away.

"I don't need a babysitter," he says. "I need to shower, and then I'll come out and check what everyone else is doing."

"Seems like I could just sit in here then," Jason points out. "Just in case you decide to take a fall."

"I'm not going to fall over," Will protests. "I can manage a shower all on my own."

Jason insists on sitting in the bedroom anyway, and Will grumbles to himself as he grabs his clothes and goes to shower off. He's midway through his shower when it occurs to him that he's not _nearly_ as filthy as he should be considering what happened, and when he finishes dressing and pops his head out into his bedroom that's the first thing on his mind.

"Someone cleaned me up while I was out?"

"Alfred, with Era's assistance. Alfred thought it'd be the easiest on your dignity."

Will isn't entirely sure about that, but it's better than a lot of the alternatives, so he simply nods and heads to the center of the second floor. The impromptu sitting area from before is still there, but it's just Jason and him, so the end up heading downstairs and over to the Kent's.

"Where is everyone, exactly?"

"Slade's taking Damian to the doctor to get his eye looked at. Bruce is at work. Joey's off picking up supplies for the paintings he wants to do... And, well, Alfred's over here."

Alfred's in the Kents kitchen, cleaning up after what looks like a very early breakfast. Will's irritated he's missed his chance to cook, but the Kents look so damn _relieved_ at the sight of him intact and walking around that he tries not to let it bother him too much.

"It's good to see you're alright," Lois says. "I'm just on my way out the door, but Clark wanted to talk to you when you were better, Will."

He doesn't like the sound of that. It feels ominous, like he's about to get in trouble... or more realistically, like someone else in the family is about to. But he isn't going to ignore it either, so he asks the endless parade of Kent children where their father is until one of them can direct them to Clark's office, where he knocks at the door.

"Oh, Will!" Are the first words out of Clark's mouth when he opens the office door to find him. "It's good to see you walking around. We were all worried."

"So I've heard. I've also heard you wanted to talk with me?"

"Oh, right," he says, going pink as he steps out of the way to let Will in. The office isn't very large, with two desks crammed in and notes absolutely everywhere, but it's also clear to Will that Clark's tried as much as possible to make the office feel like it did back in Metropolis. Even though the office is _in his house,_ there's still a photo of his family propped up on the desk which Will gives some consideration to.

He doesn't have an office, but he's wondering if he should have had a photo somewhere in the Titan's base to match it. It seems like the right thing to do. The _normal_ thing.

"Sit down," Clark says, gesturing to one of the seats. "If I had known what was going on, I would have put it off, but I actually visited on Saturday trying to catch you while it was you _and_ Thad at home."

"But I was already gone."

Clark nods, settling back in his seat, and then takes far too long a time getting to the point as he fights with himself over if he even wants to say it.

"Just say it," Will says. "If you don't I'm just going to be left wondering what I missed."

"Hal got in contact with us a few days ago," Clark finally says. "He let us know that Kara is still on Oa, but they've picked out an appropriate planet in a system just a few hops over from where Krypton once was, and they're getting underway with returning Kandor to its original size."

"That's good," Will says none-too-warily. "What's it have to do with me?"

Or with Thad. He'd expect Era, but wanting _Thad_ to be home?

"It doesn't," Clark says. "But it does with Era, and with Thad. After talking it out with my family, we decided to make a... a spring break trip to Kandor. My parents are going to stay here and watch the house for us, but otherwise all of us will be going. For us, it's the first chance we've ever had to—"

"You don't need to sell me on the trip," Will says, folding his arms across his chest. He doesn't like it. He doesn't know what Clark's about to bring up, but he already doesn't like it.

"We wanted to know if Thad wanted to come along. He's already close with Jon, so it's not as if he'd be going alone, but... he's the only one here who speaks Kryptonian, and what he's been teaching us isn't going to get us through anything but the introductions.

"Why not Era?"

"He's not going to go anywhere without Thad, and we both know it. They're a package deal."

Will wants to say no. He doesn't want Thad going anywhere off-planet. He doesn't want Thad surrounded by Kryptonians, even if he _is_ with Clark. While he doesn't think Thad has anything against Kryptonians in particular (he seemed to do just fine with Clark's family), it's not exactly summer camp, either.

But it's not his choice.

"I'll talk to him about it," Will says. "It's his choice."

Clark nods, looking enthusiastic, like he somehow thinks that's a yes. Maybe it is. Will can't even begin to guess how interested in the trip Thad would or wouldn't be, so he opts to get what details out of Clark he can.

"What's the plan for this trip exactly?"

"We're going while Jon has spring break. Lois already had it off—she booked that months ago—and Perry says I can take it off if I'll write an article about Kandor for the Planet." He pauses a second. "The Daily Planet, not—"

"I know where you work, Clark," Will says with a huff. "You don't need to clarify."

"We'll leave Friday evening, be gone for a bit over a week, and then come back Saturday or Sunday before school starts. There's a bit of playing it by ear involved, considering we'll be travelling via Lantern."

"How long is it going to take to get there?"

"Oh, not long at all. Hal says he'll bring along another Lantern or two and basically just take us all at once. The Lanterns have methods of faster than light travel they use to get around."

"Seems like an abuse of Lantern resources."

"If bringing us along encourages the Kandorians to be less reclusive, it's entirely within the Lantern wheelhouse. Part of their mission statement is about encouraging cooperation throughout the galaxy."

Will just adds that to the list of things he didn't know about the Lanterns.

"Aside from that, there's a lot that won't be confirmed until we get there, of course. But if he does come, Thad can stay with the rest of my family. I'll make sure he's taken care of... and I'm sure Era will too."

As hesitant as Will is to let Thad out of grabbing range, his feelings about Era going are just as conflicted. A part of him hopes Era will just stay: that he'll understand his mission is better served keeping an eye on Kandor. But a part of him also wants Era to come back. He is, however slowly, starting to grow _beyond_ the purely robotic set of directives originally instilled in him, and Will's hoping that he'll keep growing.

Being on Kandor could conflict with that, and not in a good way.

"I'll talk to both of them about it," Will finally says. "And I'll let you know. I assume sooner is better than later?"

Clark nods.

"We're not sure what we need to bring, if anything, so we'll be travelling fairly light. So it's really just a matter of if Thad wants to go or not."

"I'll talk to him tonight," Will says again, getting up from his seat. "In the meanwhile, I'm going to check on everyone else."

"I'm pretty sure Damian and Slade are back," Clark says, cocking his head. "Either that or someone else is walking Titus."

Which is possible. It might be Alfred. But Will figures it probably is Slade and Damian, so he says his goodbyes and excuses himself from the Kent house, heading down to the front door to go see who there is to talk to.


	43. Chapter 43

It is Slade and Damian out near the front of the Kents house. Damian's got a ball and looks like he's playing catch with Titus, but it isn't what he's doing that draws Will's attention.

For the most part, Damian's had his head bandaged while it heals. Over time, the bandages have shrunk down, but for the first time they're simply gone, revealing his eye.

His eye with an eye patch over it.

Will trots up to Slade where he stands near the Kent porch, drawing up beside him with both of their attention firmly on Damian.

"Eyepatch," Will observes.

"Eyepatch," Slade confirms. "The doctors left everything intact in the hopes that his body would heal itself enough to let him have at least partial vision in his left eye."

"I'm guessing it didn't work out."

Slade shakes his head.

"Damage was too great. Didn't heal like it should have, so he's got nothing from that eye. Doctor recommends removing it because of the damage to avoid any possible complications."

"How's he taking it?"

"He's a tough kid," Slade says. His shoulders seem tense, his entire body seeming to be coiled tight, full of nervous energy. "I think he expected this would happen from the start. Didn't seem at all surprised. Went straight to asking about eye-patches."

Will snorts at that, unsurprised. He always favored the smaller type that fit right over his eye, but Slade seems to favor the old fashioned stringed ones. Considering Damian looks to be wearing one that matches Slade's own... well, Will isn't surprised at all.

"Need to talk to Bruce, but they want to get it out as soon as they can."

"I don't blame them," Will says. "You thought about prosthetics?"

"He should have one," Slade grumbles. "But of course he's going to want an eye-patch."

"Wants to look like his dad," Will confirms. "You convinced him it was fine to go without."

But Will knows it's more complicated than that. The longer Damian takes to get a prosthetic, the harder a time he'll have adjusting to one. Better to start with one immediately.

"Well, now I have to unconvince him," Slade grumbles. "Don't suppose you wanna take a crack at it, since it'll probably sound less hypocritical coming from someone with two eyes."

"Got it," Will say, shooting Slade a smirk. "Watch a master at work."

He leaves Slade behind, heading over towards where Damian is playing with Titus. Will shoves his hands in his pockets, giving Damian enough space that he can keep on pitching.

"...Practicing your hand-eye coordination," Will says when he realizes.

"That's the idea," Damian says. "You and Slade both managed just fine with one eye, so I'm certain I'll be able to teach myself to make do."

"There's no reason not to get things set up for a prosthetic eye," he says simply. "It's more comfortable, and worst comes to worst you can slap an eye-patch over it anyway." It isn't like having a prosthetic is going to prevent Damian from wearing a patch if he _really_ wants.

"Okay," Damian says simply.

Will feels like the whole thing went down a bit too easily, Like Damian should have protested or argued. And then he realizes what he's missing.

"...Slade never even talked to you about the prosthetic, did he? He just assumed you were going to stick to an eye-patch permanently."

Damian sneaks him a little smile, his back to Slade. Will groans, slapping his forehead, and shakes his head. Then there's a pause, and he reaches down, resting a hand on Damian's shoulder.

"...Wish it hadn't turned out this way."

"It isn't your fault," Damian says. "When you go to war, people are bound to get hurt. When someone brings war to you, people get hurt. We were lucky—a cracked skull, a broken leg, and a damaged eye are nothing compared to what could have happened."

What might have happened if Thad hadn't come. What _would_ have happened.

"You're right," Will says after a moment. "Doesn't mean I don't feel bad about it though."

"Well, you shouldn't. Every member of the team would be irritated if they knew. If you'd like me to tell them so they can lecture you—"

"That really isn't necessary.

"Apparently it _is,_ unless you're willing to admit you were not at fault for what happened to my eye," Damian says, fixing Will with a glare.

Damian acts a lot like his fathers, but right then? That's _pure_ Talia.

"It wasn't my fault," Will says after a moment. "That's on the Kryptonians."

"I'm glad we came to an agreement," Damian says smugly. He takes the ball from Titus, pitching it across the yard, and Titus bolts after it, obviously happy for the activity. "Are you feeling better?"

"A lot better," Will confirms. "No issues. Villain's probably going to want to come double check, but if he's smart he's not going to get within a hundred feet of Bruce."

"He's angry about what happened. More angry than you are."

"As long as the situation ends with me aging like normal, I'm happy," Will says. "Wish it hadn't freaked everyone out, but... I've always been an _ends justifies the means_ kind of person."

"So am I," Damian says. "...I think a lot of us are. Or were. I don't think it really matters, because we trust each other to have our backs if something goes wrong, so it never comes to that anymore."

Will squints at Damian, unsure of where the hell _that_ came from. Damian's cheeks go pink, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. Will retrieves the ball when Titus trots up with it, wiping it off on the grass before turning back to Slade and waving him over, handing off the ball.

"I've got some stuff to do," Will says. "You two should talk about the surgery between yourselves."

There's a moment of... something. Damian's looking at Will. Will's looking at Slade. Slade's looking at him.

And then it's past, and Will's heading back towards the manor.

He checks in with Eiko, making sure she didn't call while he was out. He's about to head back to the Kents to start lunch when Joey arrives carrying far too many bags of supplies. Will intercepts, helping Joey get it all up to his room, but that isn't all Joey wants from him.

 _Pop?_ He signs once his hands are free.

"Hn?"

_Could I get that painting I made back from you?_

It's not like it's hard to guess which one he's talking about, but Joey seems to misread Will's hesitance.

 _I know it was a gift,_ Joey signs. _I just thought it might send the wrong message if you hung it because Thad isn't there. I thought you might like a different one with the three of us._

"Joey, I..." Will suddenly feels terribly ill equipped for the conversation. He doesn't know what he wants to say, let alone how he can say it. It's hard to put into words and even harder to put into words _properly._ He doesn't want to upset Joey. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing. "I love your sister. She is... I wish things had gone better. She's not—"

 _I get it, pop,_ Joey signs. _I really do. If you had a chance, you'd make things better with her, right?_

Will nods. He doesn't have to think about it.

"I wish I'd gotten my head out of my ass before I screwed everything up."

Joey cracks a small smile at that, reaching out to take Will's hand and giving it a quick squeeze before pulling his hand back to sign.

_I wish that too. But I'm sure she's happy. Hosun was a good guy, right?_

Will nods. He's not worried about Hosun, really. Just... everyone else who was in his life. There's no telling if _they_ were going to leave Rose alone.

_The painting?_

"Oh right," Will says. "I'll go get it."

He isn't entirely unhappy to be getting rid of it, if Will's honest with himself. He loves Grant. Grant is his son. But Grant is a horrible, painful reminder of his own failures. A reminder of the person he was. Of the fact that his oldest son's dead because of the things he did.

Rose is the same way, if a little bit less painful in general.

 _I'll make you one with the three of us,_ Joey signs, tucking the painting under his arm. _So you can put it up on your wall._

"I'd like that," Will says. "I like all your work, but a family portrait..."

 _I'll get to work,_ Joey signs.

"Well, not right now," Will says. "I'm going to have lunch ready to go pretty soon if you want to eat."

 _I'm basically never going to turn down your cooking,_ Joey signs with a grin. _Why don't we walk over together? Just let me put this away._

Will's looking forward to seeing what Joey puts together. He knows it'll be good, it's just a question of how it's going to look... and where Will's going to hang it.


	44. Chapter 44

Will has a lot of people he needs to talk to, and the order he talks to them in ends up being largely decided by chance. He makes lunch for everyone who's around, and spends part of the afternoon helping Bruce with some construction oversight. Thad arrives a minute after his school lets out, blurring into the space beside Will and staring up at him with a grin.

"I have to make a family tree," he announces, looking _deeply_ pleased with himself.

"Seems a bit young for your age," Will says. At the same time, though, he's not entirely sure it is. He doesn't have a good sense for what's age-appropriate anymore. He doubts Thad does either, considering everything he's been through.

"We're making Punnett squares and talking about blood types and genetics. Dominant and recessive genes."

Oh boy.

"Are you going to tell them you're adopted, or are you just going to watch them get confused?"

Thad's grin says it all.

"I need to talk to you about something when you're free, alright?" Will adds, and Thad's face falls, his eyebrows furrowing together in obvious focus.

"Now?"

"If you want."

"Then now."

"I'll meet you up in your room, so go put your things away." Thad's still got his backpack on, so Will shoos him away and goes to let Bruce know he'll be gone. By the time he makes it up to the second floor, Thad's got his door open and is sitting on his bed practically vibrating in place.

No, on second glance, he _is_ vibrating in place.

"I already saw Damian on the way in," Thad says the moment Will turns the corner, and Will closes the door as fast as he can manage. "I know his eye isn't working, and I'm not going to mention it—"

"I'm not here to lecture you about Damian's eye," Will says, and Thad's explanation screeches to a halt as he stares up at Will, blinking in obvious confusion.

"...You're not?"

"No."

"Oh."

Will moves over, settling down on the edge of Thad's bed, and then pats the space beside him. As fast as he has, Thad's there, sitting down and staring at him with wide eyes and a nervous expression.

Will can't really blame him.

"It isn't anything bad," he says, wanting to get that out of the way. "Clark talked to me about his families plans with Kandor. Spring break is coming up, and almost his entire family is going to be going with the Lanterns to visit. They asked about you and Era coming along."

"And you?"

Will has to think about that, but he supposes it was more _implied_ than _said._ After all, if Clark wasn't going to let him come... well, he'd have started with that. Will really can't imagine Clark inviting _just_ Era and Thad anyway.

"And me," he says. He's not exactly excited to go, but he's not letting Thad run off alone. "It's up to you if you want to go. I'm not going to make you, and no one else is either."

But the way Thad's face is lighting up with excitement makes it obvious that he _wants_ to go. That he's excited by the idea.

"I want to go," he says. "I'd get to meet other Kryptonians... and I could help Clark. It would be hard for them if none of them speak Kryptonian, right?"

"Kara should be there," Will says. "She speaks it."

"But that's just one person," Thad argues, and then hesitates, looking Will over. "You don't want to go."

"Stop right there," Will says, holding up his hand. "If you want to go, we're going. How I feel about it doesn't matter."

"It does!" Thad protests. "You should have a say too."

"It absolutely does not," Will says, letting his hand drop as he scowls at Thad. "I'm not letting you go galavanting across the galaxy alone."

"I wouldn't be _alone,"_ Thad protests. "I'd be going with Jon and his family. And Era would come too. That's not _alone."_

"You know what I mean, Thad."

"But—"

Thad stops, and Will has no idea why. It's not like he's been interrupted or anything, he just suddenly _stops,_ and Will finds himself squinting at Thad as a result.

"...But what?"

Thad fidgets. He looks almost... guilty? Nervous?

"But nothing," he says. "You should go talk to Era about this! You haven't talked to him, right?"

"Oh no you don't," Will says. "You're not getting away from this conve—"

And then Thad's gone.

Goddammit. There's no way Will can catch someone as fast as Thad without some setup time, and he was _not_ prepared for that. Not prepared for Thad to literally just bolt on him.

Will pulls out his phone and calls Thad, but Thad doesn't pick up, which means they're at a stalemate.

In the end he goes to find Era, which is a particularly easy task. He's with Bruce, observing construction, and every so often one of the workers calls out and Era floats over to move something for them. There's no need for a forklift when Era can effortlessly lift whatever they need, and while Will imagines it must have been awkward at first, it's obvious they've found a comfortable rhythm for it right then.

"Era," Will calls. "I need to talk to you about something."

Era immediately turns away, floating over to settle down in front of Will.

"Here?"

"Or wherever. I don't think we need privacy if you don't want it," Will says, his eyes drifting over to Bruce. Does it matter if Bruce knows? Does it matter if he finds out right then?

Probably not.

"Clark approached me about a trip his family's making. They're going to go to Kandor at it's new location for about a week and a half. He was hoping you and Thad would come along to help with... cultural difficulties."

"I have no issues with this," Era says, and then cocks his head to the side. "Does Thad?"

"Thad's excited by the idea," Will says. "Probably."

"Hold on," Bruce says, cutting into the conversation. "Probably?"

"He ran off halfway through our conversation," Will says, folding his arms across his chest. "You haven't seen him, have you?"

"Not since this morning," Bruce says with a shrug, his eyebrows furrowing together in obvious concern. "Should I see if anyone else has found him?"

"He's somewhere," Will says, considering. "Probably with Joey, or maybe Damian. I'll see if I can't find him, but there's no need to make it a big thing just yet."

Bruce stares at him for a long moment and then finally nods.

"Let me know if you can't find him and I'll get everyone searching, alright?"

"It's not that bad," Will insists. "Just give me a bit."

He tries Damian first, knocking at his bedroom door and getting a quick response. Damian's still got his eyepatch on, and Will quickly scans the room over Damian's shoulder. There's no sign of Thad, but Will does spot a dagger hung up on the wall and wonders what the hell the story with _that_ is.

"Thad?" Will prompts, and Damian shakes his head.

"He isn't here," Damian says. "I saw him with Joey a little while ago."

"Thanks," Will says. "Let him know I'm looking for him if you see him." As if he doesn't already know. Damian's expression is pinched and obviously confused—there's absolutely no reason Will couldn't just call him—but he doesn't voice his protests as Will turns away, heading up to the third floor.

He gets Jason at the door, who seems to guess exactly what Will's after.

"They're talking," Jason says, leaning against the door. "Better to let them talk, in this case."

"Tell them—"

"They know, Will," Jason says. "They're talking about you, but it's not a conversation for you to sit in on." Will can't hear a damn thing thanks to the soundproofing, which means they're probably farther inside Jason and Joey's house-within-a-house.

Will grunts unhappily at the idea of being turned away, but doesn't force the issue.

"Let them know I'm in my room," Will says. That's all he _can_ say. It's his only option, so he turns away and heads back down to his room to wait.


	45. Chapter 45

It's Joey who comes to visit Will in his room, knocking at the door maybe a half hour after Will left Jason behind. He looks flustered and maybe a little bit distracted.

"Everything alright?"

 _Fine,_ Joey signs. _Wanted to talk to you about what I talked about with Thad._

Which is too many layers for Will's taste. He wants to just talk to Thad and know what the hell's going on. He doesn't want to play telephone through the whole house to get someone _else's_ explanation for what's gone wrong.

 _Thad told me about the trip,_ Joey signs as he settles in on the edge of Will's bed to talk. _I think it would be a good experience for him to go, but he said you didn't want to go_ —

"Joey, I'm going. I'm not letting Thad do this on his own."

_He wouldn't be going on his own._

"Era absolutely doesn't count, and Clark's going to have other things on his mind."

_I was going to go._

That's enough to derail Will's train of thought.

"What? You? But what about Jason?"

 _It's not even two weeks,_ Joey signs. _Jason can manage just fine for two weeks without me. We talked about Thad not being confident with people who aren't you, but this would work out. You and I went to Disney, Thad and I can go to New Kandor._

"An alien planet is _not_ the same as Disney."

 _You're right,_ Joey signs with a wink. _We'll have to go to Disney just the three of us sometime when we get back. Maybe over the summer._

"Not the point."

_We'll be perfectly safe. There's no risk here, and Thad will be with me._

"There are literally thousands of risks. It's an alien planet."

_If there's anything even slightly wrong, Hal's going to turn right around and bring us back. But Kandor's peaceful. They'll be curious, not aggressive._

"As far as you know."

_Pop, be serious for a moment. Do you really think there's danger?_

Will is quiet, because they both know the answer is no. He just doesn't like the idea of Thad being so far away.

_I know this sort of thing bothers you, but you can't just hover over him forever._

"Thad's a kid," Will counters. "A good first trip away is a weekend at an amusement park with a friend, or sleeping over with the Kents. It is absolutely not travelling across the galaxy to stay on an alien planet for two weeks."

_It could be._

"No, Joey. I'll just go with him to Kandor. Problem solved."

Joey fixes him with a look that Will can only characterize as _unimpressed._ Like Will's missed something, only he doesn't have even the slightest idea what it is. Something. Something important.

 _Pop,_ Joey signs with excruciating slowness. _Thad doesn't want you to go because he's worried you leaving on Friday is going to mess things up._

"Mess things up? What would it mess up? I'm not going to get in the way of this trip, Joey." The expression on Joey's face when he signs _mess things up_ makes it clear to Will that Joey actually _agrees_ with Thad's concerns.

_Thad's worried he's going to get in the way of the developing thing you have with Slade and Bruce._

What?

_Everyone knows about it, pop. You aren't exactly subtle, and they aren't either._

It registers with Will that he said the _what_ out loud.

"He— hold on, give me a second. He's worried that me going is going to... screw it up?"

Screwing up the thing that may or may not even be happening. That probably isn't. That is... he doesn't even want to think about it.

_That's the idea, pop. He doesn't want you going away because you might miss your chance._

"There's not—" Will makes a noise of frustration. He doesn't know how to respond to that. His _whatever_ with Slade and Bruce (god, did Thad actually say _with Slade and Bruce?)_ shouldn't get in the way of him being a parent to Thad. They're two completely separate, totally unrelated things. "If me going with Thad was going to _get in the way,_ then it wouldn't be happening anyway."

_You know what we mean though._

"When did this become a we? Don't tell me you're thinking the same thing."

 _What I'm thinking is that literally every single person in this house knows that you three keep staring at each other, especially since you were sick. I don't know what happened, I don't_ want _to know what happened, but it's obvious and I think you need to deal with it._

"So I'll deal with it and _then_ go."

_Seriously, pop. Why not just let me and Thad go? You don't want to go. We do._

Will makes a strangled noise. He's having a hard time putting his thoughts in order, and he desperately wants to blame the fact that his brain regenerated when he knows for a fact that it has nothing to do with it. He's just not quite able to explain why it's an issue.

"We should ask someone else," Will says. Someone else who will shoot it down. "Ask Slade." Slade seems more likely to say no than Bruce is.

 _You realize he's going to say he doesn't have an issue with it, right?_ Joey signs, quirking his eyebrow.

"Is Thad even alright with this?"

_It was his idea._

There's a pause, and then Joey leans over, throwing an arm around Will's shoulders. He gives it a little squeeze, and Will finds himself once again at a loss for words.

 _You're getting another shot,_ Joey signs when he withdraws his hands. _I know you're not the best at this, but I'm confident you can talk it through. You're in a different place than you were when you tried things out with Bruce. You're more... self aware. I know I wasn't exactly encouraging towards you last time, but I know you can handle this, okay?_

He pauses, and then leans up, pecking Will on the shoulders before standing.

_I'm going to go talk to Slade. Just give it some thought, alright?_

Well, Will has no problem with that. He knows his brain isn't going to do anything but _give it a thought_ until it fries and shuts down. There's too many things to think about, and as far as he's concerned, no other option.


	46. Chapter 46

Will tries to stop it, but he simply can't. No matter what he does, his brain constantly derails right back to the one topic he's trying not to think about.

Every single person in the manor (did Joey mean every person? Sure, Alfred knows everything, but what about Damian? What about Era?). Bruce and Slade keep staring at him. _Something_ happened while he was sick.

Only Will's pretty sure it wasn't quite _when he was sick._ He's pretty sure it was _while he was recovering,_ when Slade reached out and was... tender. Gentle.

Will groans. He wants to stop thinking about it. He wants something else. If he worked, he'd be throwing himself into it. Nothing like a job to stop his brain from doing _this._ No time to worry about bullshit like this when his brain's worrying about keeping him alive.

When he can't figure out what the hell he's supposed to do, he calls the one person whose _job_ it is to know what he's supposed to do.

"Doctor Murillo," she answers after two rings of the phone.

"Yeah, this is Will," he says, not sure if she has his number in her... her phone? He's not clear if the number he has is for an office or her cellphone. He supposes it doesn't matter. "How fast can you get here to counsel me before I shove my foot in my mouth?"

"Metaphorically, or literally?"

"Probably metaphorically."

There's a pause and Will thinks he can hear the shuffling of papers in the background.

"An hour," she says. "Think you can keep your feet on the ground until then?"

"I'll see what I can do," he grumbles. "Manor has space at least." He does _not_ want to be talking about anything even _vaguely_ related to this in a place that doesn't have the kind of security the manor does.

"Then I'll see you in an hour," Murillo says, wrapping the call up and hanging up. Will sags down that much harder into the bed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to think.

Easier said than done, so he texts the only person on his contact list who _doesn't_ know Bruce.

 **Will:** Did things work out with your dates?

 **Eiko:** No, but one of them introduced me to a friend of hers who I like. My father is going to hate her, which is how I can tell we'll get along.

Will doesn't even get a chance to reply before she follows up.

 **Eiko:** It wasn't him behind your kidnapping, for what it's worth. The underworld seems pretty upset by what happened. Things had been fairly stable until Roman showed back up, and now the police are paying more attention again.

 **Will:** Which isn't good for anyone.

Will takes a moment to consider his options. While the fact that Lex is missing isn't public, that feels like a misstep to Will. Anyone who lives in Gotham would want him captured. A lot of people _not_ in Gotham would want him captured. Very few people stand to gain from him being out and about, and a yakuza leader isn't one of them.

Will almost wants to bring it up to her. He almost wants to tell her. But it's not his decision to make, not his thing to discuss. So he lets the conversation flow another way, shifting it away from her father.

Maybe that's better to do anyway. They talk about normal things. About life. About things that aren't kidnappings or the yakuza or the looming threat of Lex Luthor.

And then, of course, she flips his own question back on him.

 **Eiko:** You never said how things were going for you romantically. Should I still be setting you up on blind dates?

Will doesn't even have to think about it. That, at least, is something he doesn't need to wonder about.

 **Will:** I think I need to sort out my own feelings before I try any more dates. Speed dating helped me figure that out, at least.

 **Eiko:** Can't say I'm surprised.

Will pauses, squinting furiously at the phone. How? How is it even _possible_ she could suspect?

 **Will:** What do you mean?

 **Eiko:** Your mind seemed to be elsewhere when we talked about those things. You might be a big scary guy who can keep secrets from most people, but did you forget the kind of people I've been around my whole life?

Fair. He can't really argue that, and he grumbles to himself a bit before replying.

 **Will:** It's private.

 **Eiko:** I expect to hear all the dirty details the moment you're at liberty to discuss them.

Will spends the the rest of the hour pacing around in front of the house. Security isn't as tight as it should be—there's plenty of contractors going in and out—but he's still wary of the security guard simply sending Murillo away. They don't. When she shows up she's let in without issue, pulling right up to the front of the house and hopping out.

She's got sunglasses on and looks alarmingly casual, but she's got that no-nonsense look on her face that tells Will she means business.

"Office?"

They don't have an office, so they end up ducking into the empty bedroom. There's nothing in there—not even a bed—so Will goes to grab some chairs for them, setting them up as Murillo looks him over.

"...You're nervous," she observes.

"Don't know if I'd call it that."

"I would."

"Of course _you_ would," Will grumbles. "Are we doing it the same as last time?"

"Me directing it doesn't work. Our progress is better when you simply bring up whatever you have an issue with."

"Clark—Superman—wants to go to another planet. He invited Thad. Thad wants to go, and Joey offered to take him, but I don't like the idea of just the two of them going."

Murillo gives him a level stare, leaning back in her chair as if waiting for him to elaborate. When he doesn't, she clears her throat.

"That isn't what you want to talk about."

Will scowls at her, and Murillo shakes her head.

"This only works if you're contributing," she says. "If you're being honest... both with yourself, and with me."

"I _am_ —"

"You aren't, and you know it. Now what do you want to actually talk about?"

Will can't stop himself from just blurting it out.

"Is it fucked up if I'm interested in myself?"

For once, Murillo doesn't have an immediate response. It takes her a second to come up with one, shaking her head.

"That would depend on if you mean _yourself,_ or if you mean _Slade."_

"Same thing."

"It isn't," Murillo says. "The fact that you said that makes me think you phrased it that way just to hear me say that it isn't the same thing." She taps her foot, looking deeply unimpressed. "You're not being honest with yourself, or with me."

"I just want... insight. An impartial mediator. Someone who can tell me how fucked up I am or am not for this shit."

"That's not what a therapist is," Murillo says. "The point of a therapist is to give you the tools to make your own decisions. But right here, right now, I will break that rule for you. Will, you aren't Slade. You're a completely different person. You have your own flaws and your own strengths. You act differently. You think differently. You're a different person."

"So I'm not the world's most narcissistic bastard?"

"Not by a long shot," Murillo says with a small laugh. "You should see some of the patients I have... You're too aware of your own flaws to be interested in Slade for the similarities. If anything, you're interested in Slade for the differences."

Will sinks back into his seat. It feels like a weight's been lifted off of his shoulders. Like he's just been given _permission_ to think about his attraction towards Slade.

"But there's still going to be complications," Murillo points out. "You are—let's not mince words here—apparently interested in a man who is both married and presenting you to the world as his brother."

Will, if he's being honest with himself, hasn't given it as much thought as he should. That always seemed like something that would come _after_ he talked to Bruce and Slade (or didn't matter otherwise). But now he's thinking about it, and it's hard to put the thought out of his head.

"Are you sure you'll be alright being a secret? Never being able to be public."

"Is that really what we should be focusing on?"

"I'm not a relationship counselor. What I'm focusing on is your reaction to things. From where I'm standing, that would be the first step: would you be alright with the level of secrecy involved?"

"I mean... yeah?" Will says with a shrug. "I got used to hiding who I was. This is nothing by comparison. I could still be open with the people I care about, and... I mean, do I really give a shit about the fact that Joe Nobody doesn't know my private business? I don't plan on sharing anyway."

"Then I would recommend talking to them immediately."

 _"Immediately?_ Like... now?"

"You were literally pacing back and forth when I arrived," Murillo says. "Even now you've been fidgeting, and I don't think you even noticed. The longer you drag it out, the worse it'll feel. So let them know you need to talk, talk it out, and then work from there. I could walk you through plenty of possibilities, but it would likely end up a waste of your time until you've addressed it with them."

Will grumbles. He wants to. But he also doesn't want to. Addressing the issue draws a line in the sand, and Will isn't sure if he's able—or willing—to cross it right then.

"You need to take that step," Murillo says. "Even if the idea of rejection is terrifying."

Will feels offended by the idea of him being _terrified_ of anything, let alone something as simple as rejection. At the same time, he wonders if that's the point—if it's Murillo's way of giving him a kick in the ass, using his own natural competitiveness and intense desire to prove her wrong to force his hand.

Whether it is or not, it works. Will shoots Bruce and Slade a text asking if they can talk and is alarmed when he gets a text back _immediately._

 **Slade:** We're up in our room.

Will says the world's briefest goodbye to Murillo, waiting just long enough to see her off, and then heads upstairs, his stomach sinking with every step.


	47. Chapter 47

Will feels like he left his nerve behind. Maybe Murillo stole it, because he sure as hell doesn't have it with him when he stops in front of the entrance to Slade and Bruce's rooms. In the same way that Joey and Jason have a house within a house, Bruce and Slade's quarters could be seen the same way. While there are other ways in, they _do_ have what amounts to a front door, and it's there that Will finds himself standing, not quite capable of knocking.

But he has to. He has to knock. He has to knock and open the door and talk things out.

He doesn't know how he feels about things. He doesn't know if he's expecting to be shot down or not. Are they going to say no? Are they going to say yes? Will doesn't know because he won't let himself think about it. He doesn't _want_ to weigh the odds. He doesn't want to consider the possibility that the answer might be no.

Just because he's willing to be a secret doesn't mean Bruce and Slade are willing to have a secret. Just because they've been sneaking glances doesn't mean they're willing to give it a try.

There are a lot of risks.

Will's dragged out of his mental spiral by the door jerking open. Slade's standing on the other side, looking distinctly unimpressed as he flicks his eye up and down Will.

"Going to stand out there all day?" Slade asks. "Or are you coming in?"

Will comes in. He comes in like a wave, surging forward. He no longer feels in control of his own actions. He's acting, but he's no longer thinking. He grabs the front of Slade's shirt, dragging him closer.

Slade could stop him, Will registers. Slade has that power. While it remains to be seen which of them would win in a one-on-one fight (Will thinks it would be him, but it's not a sure thing), the fact is that Slade's certainly not a helpless passerby as Will drags him closer, leaning in to pull Slade into a kiss.

It's not like kissing Bruce in any way. The first time Will kissed Bruce was chaste and brief. The second time was demanding and possessive. This is somewhere in the middle, desperate without the controlling edge. Will _needs_ it. He couldn't even explain why, but he needs it. He needs to know what it's like in case things go wrong. He needs to be prepared.

Slade growls into the kiss, his hand grabbing Will's forearm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise anyone else.

And then the kiss breaks far too soon, and Will makes a noise of frustration.

"Eager," Slade says, and it doesn't sound like a good thing. "Desperate."

"So sue me," Will snaps.

He _wants,_ and he doesn't know what his emotions are doing. He feels like a car that's gone wildly out of control, threatening to flip if he turns any faster. He wants things and he's afraid that if he goes too slow he's going to miss his chance.

He tries to lean in for another one, but Slade's hand on his arm keeps him from doing it. Slade clicks his tongue, and Will growls right back at him.

"If I'm going to be told no," he says, "I want to at least get something out of it."

Slade's expression seems to soften at that, his grip relaxing.

"This isn't about being told no, Will. This is about figuring out how the yes works."

Slade leans in, planting the softest, most pathetically chaste kiss on Will's lips before withdrawing. It's not the kind of kiss Will wants. It's not the kind of kiss that Will _ever_ wants. He wants teeth and force and _fight._

"Come," Slade says, pulling Will along with him as he heads farther into their apartment. Even before they reach him, Will can hear the sound of Bruce pacing somewhere inside. There's no doors between them, or if there are, those doors are hanging open. It isn't the bedroom Slade takes him to, but instead to the living room that looks out over the back of the house, giving them a gorgeous view of the grounds and the woods.

Will should probably be taking in the view, but instead his eyes snap straight to Bruce. He _was_ pacing, his shirt seeming slightly ruffled in a manner that makes Will thinks he's been gesturing wildly the way he tends to when worked up. He looks... unlike himself. Flustered. And he comes to a complete and total stop when Slade and Will turn the corner, his eyes bouncing between them like he can't figure out which one he should be looking at.

"He wants to talk," Slade says. He seems the most at ease of any of them as he crosses the room, settling himself down in an armchair. The way he lounges reminds Will of a predator, which tells Will that he's a lot more bothered than he's willing to show. He's hiding his nerves by radiating _danger._

"You already know what I want to talk about," Will says. He can't decide if he wants to sit or not. There's pros and cons to each, and he pushes down his nerves by letting his brain churn over each.

"We're not going to pretend like we don't," Slade says.

"It had to be—" Bruce starts, before cutting himself off and frowning like he can't quite figure out what to say.

"It had to be you coming to us," Slade says for him. "Considering how things ended with Bruce last time. To restart that—"

"We're not restarting it," Will says.

Slade and Bruce exchange a glance, and Slade clears his throat. Will doesn't let him. He's not done. Not yet.

"This isn't Will-fucks-up-with-Bruce round two. I don't want Bruce. I don't want you either, Slade," he says when Slade perks up. "I want... both."

It sounds greedy. Maybe it _is_ greedy. But it's also the truth: he wants both. He doesn't want Bruce. He doesn't want Slade. He wants _both_ of them. They complement each other. They balance. Sometimes Bruce is too much and Slade helps him relax. Sometimes Slade is too intense and needs Bruce to help him get under control.

He doesn't want one or the other.

Just both.

"We discussed it," Bruce says. "We also came to the same... understanding. Nothing was going to work out with someone feeling like the third wheel. If it was going to happen, it was going to have to be both."

"Take it or leave it," Slade says with a snort. "So I suppose you'll be taking it."

Bruce sits, and Will isn't going to be the only one standing, so he sits down in one of the remaining armchairs, sinking into the too-plush seat. He feels like a clock wound too tight, liable to burst at any moment. He needs to do something with the energy, only all he can do right then is sit there and _talk it out._

"At least telling the family will be easier this time," Bruce grumbles. "They seem to... know. Or at least suspect."

"They know," Will confirms. "Thad didn't want me going to Kandor because he was worried I'd _miss my chance."_

"That wouldn't have—" Bruce starts, but Will cuts him off.

"I know," he says. "I told him. He didn't believe me, and now he's literally running away from me."

"I'm not saying his worry's justified," Slade says, "but I see what he's getting at. I'm not sure how much he's heard about what happened last time, but he probably wants to be... supportive."

Will pauses for a moment. He should be focused on Thad. He should be thinking about the logic behind what he's doing. The things he has in mind. But he's having a hard time focusing on that.

"Is this really happening?" Will says, and it takes a second for him to realize he just said it out loud.

"Seems like it," Slade says. "We want to add you, you want to be with us... it balances out."

"There's still things we have to talk about," Bruce says. "Details to hash out. But I think... it might be better to wait on those."

"The public can't know," Will says, and Bruce looks obviously uncomfortable. Slade simply looks accepting; they all knew it was coming, like it or not. "I'm not going to do this if it's going to screw things up for you."

"It wouldn't be you messing it up—"

"Bruce, we both know what he means. It could blow back on us, even if it shouldn't be anyone's business with ours."

"Then for now, just the family," Bruce says with a sigh. "We can handle anyone else on a case by case basis."

Will can think of a lot of names that need to get dealt with right then. "Clark and his family? Therapists? The League?"

"One at a time," Slade says, holding up his hands. "The therapists have been vetted to hell and back again, I'd confess to murder to them without batting an eye."

Bruce shoots him an unimpressed look.

"As much as I trust Clark," Slade continues as if Bruce did no such thing, "his family is quite large, and I'm not sure how... well, how _all_ of them might respond. I also can't be sure that the boys wouldn't let it slip, so for now I think we should keep it to ourselves."

"At least until things are settled," Bruce says. "Then we can reassess." He hesitates, glancing between the two of them, and then chews a bit on his lip. "Are you going to be alright with that, Will? With... not being able to be public."

With not being able to kiss them. With not being able to touch them. With Bruce and Slade being, as far as the world knows, involved solely with each other.

"Yeah," Will says. It's obviously weighing on _Bruce,_ and while Will can see why, but he simply doesn't feel the same way. He doesn't need it to be public. He doesn't need it to be on display.

"You're sure?"

"You don't need to second guess him," Slade says. "He knows if it would bother him."

Bruce scowls and shakes his head.

"It's not an easy thing," he says. "It's not something you can just... brush off."

"I can," Will says simply. "It's not a big deal. I'd rather be private about my relationships in general. The only person who needs to know who I'm sleeping with is me."

"This isn't just sleeping together," Slade says. "This is more than that." There's a pause, and he squints at Will. "Right?"

"I wouldn't put this much effort into getting my dick wet," Will says with a snort. "This is more than that."

"Alright," Bruce says with a wave of his hand. "Now you have me thinking about it. The way you said _private about your relationships..._ You haven't slept with anyone since you got here, have you?"

"You," Will says. "I haven't exactly had the opportunity otherwise."

He's not going to pretend like he would have turned it around the first few months. He wouldn't have: he's always enjoyed sex, after all.

"Now _I_ have to know," Slade says with a small laugh. He raises a hand, ticking off his fingers as he counts. "Adeline. Lilian. I assume a lot of random hookups in bars." He pauses to consider. "We established you're not gay like I am, at least. Did you even know you were interested in men before this?"

Will thinks the whole conversation has gone off the rails and he's happy for it. The more time he gets to put between him and _the talk,_ the better. Padding it out is ideal.

"Liked men for ages. Didn't hook up with many because it's just easier to hook up with women."

"Anyone I know?" Slade asks, quirking an eyebrow. Will suspects he's thinking of someone in particular.

"I firmly ignored the identity of any man I fucked, if that's what you're asking. The only repeat performances were women."

Slade seems to deflate, and Will wonders who he was _hoping_ to hear about.

After a second, he decides to just ask.

"Obviously you were thinking about someone," Will says. "Who?"

"Old friend of mine," Slade says. "I'm not sure you'd have known him, he was a pretty discrete guy. It doesn't really matter."

Bruce is eyeing Slade curiously, and Will's pretty sure that the moment he's out of the room Bruce is going to shake Slade down for information.

So he just asks.

"Name?"

"Lucas?"

"Doesn't ring any bells," Will says with a shrug. "I assume, since you're being cagey, he's probably some kind of mercenary."

"It doesn't really matter," Slade says. "There's plenty of differences, and this is just one of them. You've probably slept with plenty of people I didn't."

Will snorts at that, but it _does_ give him a chance to bring up something he wondered about.

"You didn't sleep with Talia, did you?"

He can all but hear the record scratch as Slade and Bruce both suddenly put _all_ of their focus on him. Bruce goes red.

"You _slept with Talia?"_

"I was asking Slade," Will counters.

"Which means you did," Slade says, "and you're wondering if I did too."

"Guilty," Will says. "Pat too, if you knew her."

"Patricia Trayce?" Slade asks, leaning forward. "I knew her, but I sure as hell didn't sleep with her."

"Well, you missed out," Will says.

"Can we rewind to Talia?" Bruce says, sounding exasperated. "You slept with _Talia al Ghul?"_

"It's not like you're the only one with rights to her," Will says with a wave of his hand.

"I think we're getting off topic," Slade says with a grunt. "Who we slept with _before_ doesn't matter. What matters is now. Laying out ground rules."

"No sleeping with anyone else," Bruce says. "I think that should be obvious, but..."

"It was obvious," Will says. "You don't need to spell _that_ out."

"I thought it was better to be clear," Bruce says, face going red again. He looks flustered, and after a moment he clears his throat, glancing between the two of them. "...So where are we going from here?"

"I need to convince Thad I can go to Kandor with him without the two of you dumping me," Will grumbles, mostly to himself. Bruce and Slade exchange a look, and Will knows immediately he's not going to like what they're going to say next.

"You're welcome to go," Bruce says, obviously doing what he can to be diplomatic, "but have you considered... taking Joey up on his offer? Letting the boys go together might be good for them."

He definitely doesn't like it.

"We don't have to decide that right now," Slade says, obviously trying to head off the disaster before it hits. "Probably better we leave it here for now and not push too far. This was already a lot."

There's a lull in the conversation, and Will catches himself glancing between the two, unsure of what to do next.

"...I have to admit I expected this to go differently," Bruce says.

"Differently how?" Slade asks.

"Well, for one I expected half this conversation to happen in bed, considering Will's previous track record."

"He did kiss me on the way in," Slade says, and Will scowls at him. Bruce looks surprised, his eyes going wide.

"What? And you didn't tell me?"

"It just happened, Bruce. And I don't kiss and tell."

He winks, and Bruce goes red. Will can't quite figure out what the hell is going on, but the impression he gets is very firmly _not_ that Bruce is angry with them, so he lets himself take a guess.

"...You wanted to watch."

The way Bruce goes even redder all but confirms it, and Slade lets out a barking laugh, pushing himself up from his seat. He's practically making a show of it as he stalks across the room, slipping himself into Will's personal space without an ounce of hesitation.

"Oh yes," he says. "I had to drag it out of him, but there was no question; as much as he's attracted to me, and as much as he's attracted to you, he's as much attracted to the idea of me _and_ you."

There's an exquisite slowness in the way Slade dips his head down to kiss Will. It's obvious to Will that the whole thing is a performance, a show put on for Bruce's benefit, because it's slow and tantalizing in a way that Slade usually isn't. Unless Will is completely off the mark, he's sure Slade would have already gotten down to business if he was doing it for his own reasons.

But it's still a good kiss. It still leaves Will wanting _more,_ and he leans into the kiss, nipping at Slade's lips—

Someone's phone rings, and Slade jerks back with a growl.

"Who in the _hell_ is that?" Slade snaps, his concentration ruined. It's Bruce, who fishes the phone from his pocket and frowns when he looks at it. The phone stops ringing before he can even answer it, but Bruce keeps looking anyway.

"Damian," Bruce says with a groan. "We should probably deal with that."

"Probably," Slade says, straightening up as his eyes fall to Will. "Rain check on making Bruce hot and bothered?"

"I'll take that," Will says with a snort.

But when it comes time to go, it takes a little bit for him to get up, because the last thing he wants to do is deal with whatever's going on with Damian while he's sporting a tent in his pants.


	48. Chapter 48

Will ends up following Bruce and Slade to Damian once he's gotten things under control, and he's happy that he did. By the time he leans his head into Damian's room things are already well underway, with Damian, Thad, Slade, and Bruce all crowded around... something.

"What's going on?"

Thad seems to have forgotten that he was avoiding Will, because he perks up immediately to explain the situation.

"Damian had a dagger on his wall from his grandfather. We were talking about things, and he brought it down to show me, but I dropped it, and it broke."

Did he just get cockblocked by a _broken dagger?_

But as fast as the thought hits him, he realizes something else has to be going on. It's not like Ra's was going to invest in something so cheap it would be broken from a quick drop to the floor.

"Message in the handle," Slade observes. He's in the process of attempting to piece the weapon back together while Bruce leans over what looks like a tiny scrap of paper.

"Source of the dagger?" Will asks, leaning over Slade's shoulder to take. It looks like a quality piece of work, which only convinces Will that much more that the _breaking_ was a feature, not a bug.

"It was Ra's al Ghuls," Bruce says. "After his death, it was retrieved by Nyssa, his daughter. She passed it on to Damian before her own death."

"So the message could be from her," Damian says. "Or it could be from grandfather."

There's a lot more options than that, but Will doesn't bother to say it. He feels like it's obvious.

"Coordinates," Bruce says, leaning back. "The setup is right. I assume you can decode it, Damian?"

"I would have to try a few options," Damian confirms. "But I think I know which one."

They make room for Damian as Thad zips away and right back, holding out a pen and paper. Damian takes it, starting to scribble out options as he does.

"Probably another pit," Slade guesses. "Just what we need."

"This seems like an insurance policy for him," Will speculates. "Ra's never planned to die, but that didn't stop him from preparing for the possibility. This is his insurance—his heir would claim the dagger, and eventually find the message inside, leading them to a secret pit hidden from the rest of the League."

"He was paranoid enough for it," Slade says as Damian holds up the paper, apparently complete.

"And since it was encoded, only his heir would be able to find the location... added insurance," Bruce says with a sigh. "Fantastic. A pit. Just what we need."

"The pit could fix your arm!" Thad announces excitedly, and Will rolls his eyes.

"At the cost of making me _even younger,"_ he grunts. "Not a risk I'm taking. I'm fine with it as it is."

The nth metal has plenty of advantages. There's no real _disadvantage_ to speak of beyond that the metal clearly doesn't look like a flesh and blood arm. He can feel through it, and it's stronger and more durable than flesh anyway.

Considering how well it managed during his kidnapping, Will isn't in a hurry to give it up.

Especially not if doing so is going to make his age dip.

"The pit isn't getting used," Bruce says. "The only known sample of fluid is currently held in safekeeping for study. Depending on where this pit is located, it will most likely be partitioned off and kept isolated for study."

Slade reaches out, taking the page from Damian and skimming over the coordinates.

"Somewhere in Eastern Europe."

"Maybe it's not a pit," Damian says, sounding _very_ excited. "Eastern Europe is where Goliath is supposed to be!"

"Bialya is not Eastern Europe," Slade counters.

"It's close enough. We could stop by Bialya on the way, you know."

Slade rolls his eye and ushers them out.

"Let's check it on the computer. It might be a known location, for all we know. Or some place we can't go."

"Some place we can't go _officially,"_ Damian says, bouncing out after Slade.

Thad stays behind, looking up at Will, suddenly serious.

"...Did you talk to them?"

Will nods his head, and Thad stares up at him, obviously expecting more elaboration. When he doesn't get it, he huffs and asks himself.

"And? How did things go?"

"I am going to... be involved with Bruce and Slade. I imagine we'll tell everyone over dinner, but for now it's _family only."_

"Not Jon?"

"Not Jon right now," Will confirms. "We're feeling it out."

Thad's face lights up, and Will feels himself melt. He's just too... excited. Too eager. And when Thad reaches up to take Will's hand, Will feels any reluctance he might have had melt. If Thad is that excited for him, it can't be that bad, right?

"You like them," Thad says quietly. "They really like you. I just want you to be happy with them."

Will reaches down, scooping Thad up into his arms for a hug. Thad buries his face into Will's shoulder, making a happy little noise as Will pulls him close. He's happy for the affection, and even happier for Thad's approval.

"Okay," Thad says after a moment. "You can let me down. We should check with them, right?"

Will sets Thad down and follows the noise to Bruce and Slade's room. They've set up an office already, and Bruce is making unhappy noises as he looks at the computer.

"So what have we got?" Will asks as they arrive.

"Remote mountains," Slade says. "Heavily wooded mountains with shitty weather. Even with our tech we'd have a nearly impossible time landing anywhere near there. The only advantage we have is the country."

Will leans around to take a look at the computer, his eyebrows going up.

"That's in Markovia's borders," he observes, and Bruce nods.

"Which is our only stroke of luck here. You being apparently friendly with the King might be the only reason we'll be able to investigate. Our best shot would be to land here..." Bruce indicates some clear land that seems, to Will, fairly far from their target. "...and hike in."

Hiking in. Fantastic.

"Alternatives?"

"Air dropping you in. But that would make extraction extremely difficult, even for you."

"Fantastic," Will grumbles. "We'll have to deal with it when we can."

"I'll let the League know what we found," Bruce says. "See if we can't open diplomatic channels..."

"What about Tara?" Will asks. He hasn't bothered keeping up with Markovian politics. His interest was, as far as he knew, a momentary fancy.

Bruce shrugs and does a search, but nothing recent comes up.

"He either hasn't found her or is keeping it quiet," Will observes, tapping his chin. "If you can find Tara Markov, Brion would bend over backwards to do whatever the hell you want. She'd be fifteen and in our world she was working as a mercenary already. Earth powers. Might be around Boston."

"You want me to just find a _lost princess?"_ Bruce asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I'm pointing out that while you _could_ go through the diplomatic channels, it would be far easier—and a hell of a lot more helpful—if you were able to find her and reunite her with her brother."

Bruce grumbles a bit but turns his attention back to his computer.

"I'll look into it," he says. "I don't have the resources I used to."

"If she was a mercenary, I might," Slade suggests. "Or Wintergreen. The Balkan is still technically active."

"Doesn't matter who finds her," Will says. "Matters that she gets found."

"We'll look into it," Bruce says. "Can you check in with Alfred about construction? One of us should be supervising, and... well, it seems like we're going to be busy now."

"Got it," Will says.

"I'll go with him," Thad volunteers. "Era's already down there, anyway!"

Which Will considers a win. The more time Era is willing to spend with people who _aren't_ Thad, the better.


	49. Chapter 49

They tell the family after dinner. While the usual policy would be to announce it _during_ dinner, the fact that they spend dinner with the Kent's precludes the possibility.

Instead, Bruce calls a family meeting just after, and everyone heads back over to the manor. Most of the construction crew is out, but they make a point of doing it on the third floor anyway, well away from anyone who might overhear.

"I'm sure this isn't a surprise to all of you," Bruce says with a sigh, "but Slade and I have invited Will into our... relationship. We're taking things slow, and for the time being this is _family only."_

"No Jon?" Damian asks.

"No Jon," Thad confirms for him.

"Not yet," Slade says. "We went too fast last time. We told everyone, and then we had to... undo it all."

"So, just clarifying... it's not Will and Bruce and you and Bruce, it's all three of you?" Jason asks, eyes flicking between them. Bruce and Slade are standing, but Will's settled in beside Thad. It's _their_ announcement. Not his. Even if it involves him.

"It's all three of us," Bruce confirms. "After some discussion, we all agree that all three is the best option for avoiding the... obvious pitfalls of the situation."

 _Does this mean pop's going to be staying here for the trip?_ Joey signs.

"I didn't agree to anything like that," Will grunts.

"We're still working on wearing him down on that point," Bruce says with a wry smile. "Give us a bit."

"I'm feeling a bit conspired against," Will grumbles. It's starting to feel more and more like _everyone_ in the family is in agreement except for him.

"He might not have much of a choice," Slade points out. "For those who weren't here for the revelation, Damian found a set of League coordinates—"

"League of Assassins," Bruce clarifies.

"—Which lead to something we haven't yet confirmed. We suspect a pit."

"I am unclear on how that relates to Will," Era asks. He's been quiet, but then he's _always_ been quiet.

"Pit's located in Markovia, and Will's apparently friendly with the King. We're going to need him for the best chance of getting in the door. While this isn't emergency enough we're going to violate borders over it, the faster we find out what it is, the better prepared we can be."

"Which means we're talking about Era, Thad, and Joey going with Clark and the rest of his family, and Will helping us handle this... League matter?" Jason asks.

"This is confusing," Slade grunts. "Just call them the League of Assassins. The League is the Justice League, now and forever."

"This League of Assassins matter," Jason says, throwing his hands up. "You all knew what I meant."

"We did," Alfred confirms. "But I believe that this does pose a significant problem if Will plans to insist on going along with Era and the boys."

Suddenly everyone's looking at him.

"Fine," Will says. "Thad, do you really just want it to be the three of you? You know that me going isn't going to get in the way of Bruce and Slade now."

"I don't... _not_ want you to come," Thad says, fidgeting back and forth. "But... it would be nice to see more of Joey, and they need you here, right?"

Will exhales. It's a long, strained exhale, and by the time it's done he shakes his head.

"Fine," he says. "The three of you can go. Era, Joey? You're in charge of keeping Thad out of trouble... and safe."

"Thad's safety is of the utmost importance," Era says. "You have nothing to be concerned about."

Will doesn't think it's going to be _that_ easy.

"Everyone has their missions," Slade says. "Trip leaves Friday. Joey, Thad, Era... check in with Clark and make sure you have everything. Alfred, Jason, you're in charge of the house—"

"Oh no," Jason says. "You guys aren't running off to Europe without me. I'm coming with you. Alfred is perfectly capable of managing the house."

"While I certainly wouldn't decline additional help, I also wouldn't object to those remaining on Earth going on the trip together," Alfred says. "I can certainly handle oversight of a construction crew or two."

"Double family trip!" Damian announces, sounding a bit _too_ excited before he seems to shrink back a bit. "I mean, since we're splitting up..."

"There's a good chance I'll stay here," Bruce says. "As eager as we all are for a family trip, Luthor is still out there. Having all three of the Gotham based Justice League members be gone would be a monumentally bad idea."

"Fair," Slade says. "I'm sure we can manage with the four of us."

"We've got things to get done before that," Bruce says. There's a lot of politics to hammer out first." He looks less than pleased by the idea of it, but that doesn't stop him from getting down to work at the first opportunity.

Will on the other hand suddenly finds himself with a suspiciously high amount of free time. Everyone seems to be giving him space, seeming to be actively getting out of his way.

It's not hard to figure out why, and the fact that Thad seems almost _disappointed_ when he spots Will heading to bed in his own room makes Will roll his eyes.

The next morning, Will makes a point of stopping by Bruce's office, knocking once before leaning in the door.

"I'm getting the impression everyone's waiting for us to jump each other," Will observes.

"No time," Bruce grumbles. When Will takes a second glance, he's pretty sure Bruce hasn't actually _slept_ since their last talk.

"That busy?"

"I found a lead on your geokinetic," Bruce says.

"She's not mine," Will corrects. Tara is most _definitely_ not his. "How good's the lead?"

"Slade spoke to Wintergreen, who put a line out that he needed one for the job. She's going to be coming out to Metropolis, since we felt like Gotham would be too obvious."

"And Metropolis isn't?"

"It's significantly less so since Clark moved up here," Bruce says. "She'll be coming out to meet us. The question is how we're going to handle it."

Which isn't a question at all as far as Will's concerned.

"I'm going to go talk to her," he says. "Joey, Tanya and I are the three who know her. Tanya and her never got along, Tara probably doesn't know ASL, and that leaves me."

"The only person who knows her in any way," Bruce says. "But she's not the person you knew."

"I knew Tara at fifteen, even if she's older now. I remember what she was like. Worst comes to worst I'll tranq dart her and drag her to Markovia unconscious."

Bruce looks absolutely scandalized.

"I was kidding," Will says. It's only half a lie, so he's pretty sure it doesn't actually count. "I'll meet up with her when she's here, I'll explain the situation, and we'll play it by ear for how we're going to get her on a plane to Markovia. Have you talked to them yet?"

"I don't want to commit to anything until I know for sure if she's coming along," Bruce says. "At a minimum, get a picture of her. I want to have _something_ to show."

"You want to know how much the King's going to be tripping over himself to oblige us," Will says. "That sound about right?"

"You know how this works," Bruce says with a wave of his hand. "Things are easier when they're happening in this country. We know all the right people. We know who to talk to and when. The moment things start happening elsewhere, our hands are tied."

"Relax," Will says. "Even if we can't get her, the King likes me. Likes _us,_ considering he reshaped the hill for us."

"This isn't a relaxing thing, Will."

Will pauses and then dips down, pressing a kiss to the back of Bruce's neck. He shivers, and Will feels the _intense_ desire to do it again before he reigns in his instincts.

"Go to bed," Will says. "You need to sleep. I'll make sure you bring up some food for you around lunch."

Bruce grumbles a bit but eventually allows himself to be sent off to bed, leaving Will to handle food on his own.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains sexual content.

As he works his way through the day, Will can't help but feel like he's being avoided. Everyone seems to be giving him space, but everyone also seems to be watching him closely.

It's not hard to figure out why.

 _So, everything working out?_ Joey signs to him while Will cooks.

"Yep."

_No issues?_

"Yep."

Joey stares at him expectantly. Will knows what he's getting at, but if Joey wants to know, he's going to have to ask.

 _Most of us kind of expected that after the three of you hooked up, we wouldn't be seeing you for a few days,_ Joey signs.

"I figured," Will says, finishing up his prep and sliding the vegetables into the pan. "Bruce is asleep."

_Slade isn't._

"I'm cooking, Joey. And we're in someone else's house."

He gives his son a nice hard look, and Joey backs off.

He serves up lunch, making sure both the Wilson-Waynes and the Kents get well fed, and then heads back to the manor to see what can be done to help. For the most part, the answer is _nothing._ The construction teams Bruce has brought in are professionals, and Bruce has left extremely detailed notes for them to work from. Alfred's oversight is already a bit too much, and adding Will to that only makes a mess. Even Era isn't doing much, lingering near Alfred for the rare cases he's needed.

Will doesn't mean to—it's not like he planned it or anything—but he ends up drifting upstairs anyway. He passes through the second floor, winding up in the third floor lobby, and then finds himself at a loss.

He should pack, he decides. He can't imagine they'll be gone more than forty-eight hours at the absolute most, but he's always believed in being prepared. He winds his way back down to the second floor, packing a bag with all the essentials before heading down into the batcave to rifle through the storage crates.

The cave's far from finished—it's really just a lot of platforms—and as a result it's being used for storage of all their gear. There's a storage manifest that he flips through, locating hiking boots for him and Slade, and then doubles back to the manifest to find where Jason and Damian's are stored.

In the end he drops all four pairs of boots near the entrance of the cave, heading back upstairs, his work done.

The ikon suit is more secure, but when it comes to hiking up a mountain he wants something with solid grip.

 **Will:** Dug out boots for everyone down in the cave.

 **Jason:** Me too?

 **Will:** For everyone coming mountain climbing.

He digs out more gear as they go. He doubts they're going to need half the ropes and pulleys he selects, let alone ice screws and crampons, but between Slade and him they can certain afford to be prepared and bring more than they'll need.

The absolute last thing he wants is to get stuck halfway up a mountain with no easy way to get up. He sorts things into _mandatory, useful, and emergency_ piles, grabbing a pair of ultra-secure climbing gloves and some ropes for him and Slade. If worst comes to worst, Will figures the two of them can free-climb up the mountain with Jason and Damian getting towed along.

His phone vibrates at his side, and Will claps his hands together, resealing the crates before checking it.

 **Slade:** You down in the cave?

 **Will:** Just finishing up.

 **Slade:** Come up.

Will stares at the message for a long while before tucking his phone away and doing as he was asked. He winds his way right back up the stairs, past the second floor and directly to the third.

Slade and Bruce's door is hanging open. It feels like an open mouth, like some great beast that Will's feeding himself to. The feeling in his stomach is almost dread as he steps through the doorway, pulling it closed behind him before heading down the hall.

There are a lot of rooms. He avoids the bedroom—Bruce is probably asleep—in favor of heading towards the living room, expecting to find Slade. He doesn't. Instead, he winds around through what looks like an unfurnished dining room for private meals and winds up back in front of the double doors to the master bedroom. He hasn't been inside—not even on Joey and Jason's side—and he doesn't know the layout.

So he simply knocks. He's not sure if it's the right choice. He's not even sure if the door is the actual _bedroom door._ For all he knows there's another door farther inside that leads to the real bedroom, and he's just knocking pointlessly on something else entirely.

Then the door opens and Will stops wondering. There _is_ another door—he can see it just inside—but the one he's standing at is far more ornate and obviously intended as the place you'd knock.

But he's having a hard time focusing on that because Slade's decided to take the opportunity to lean up against the doorframe while shirtless, his eyes sweeping across Will in a way that does very little to disguise his hunger.

"Will," Slade says. "Imagine seeing you here."

"...Is Bruce still asleep?" Will asks, eyes flicking back and forth. The door to the left seems to lead towards a bathroom, while the one to the right is either some kind of workroom or maybe the secondary bedroom. He's proven right when Slade nods his head towards the closed door.

"I've been setting up our extra space," Slade says, "so he's been sleeping in the extra bedroom."

"Considerate of him."

"More like he didn't want to be woken up by my tinkering."

He waves Will inside, gesturing for him to shut the doors as he strides through the second set of double doors to the bedroom. There's a closed door to the left and an open door leading to a large closet to the right, but Will's far more interested in the _bed._ It's absolutely massive. They could comfortably sleep the whole goddamn family on it. It has to be nine feet wide, taking up the majority of what is already a particularly large bedroom.

"That is too goddamn big," Will grumbles.

"We were big guys," Slade says with a laugh. "When it came time to put the beds in, Bruce and I decided to hedge our bets and get a larger size... just in case."

Which makes sense with what he knows. Their old bed wasn't nearly as large, which means... well, that they picked out this one just on the off chance he decided to join them.

Slade's hand slides down, resting comfortably on Will's hip as he presses up behind him.

"Your kids been hassling you about not having spent the whole day in bed? Joey seems the type."

"Joey takes after his dad," Will says with a hiss, leaning back against Slade. They're almost the same size, but Will's so used to people being smaller than him that it makes Slade feel that much bigger. "Can't keep it in his pants."

Slade laughs at that, and then Will feels Slade's teeth scrape across the nape of his neck as Slade mouths his way down to the space where Will's neck meets his shoulder.

"If I remember right..." Slade says as if he doesn't remember _perfectly,_ "you left a nice big bite right here on your first date."

"Guilty," Will murmurs.

"Next time consider that any marks you leave are going to blow back on _me_ and consider marking your territory in a way that doesn't make us look like animals."

Slade punctuates the point by digging his teeth in hard enough to draw blood.

Will isn't a masochist. He doesn't get off on pain, even if some people think he does.

Unfortunately, his dick hasn't quite gotten the picture. His dick's hard enough to be painfully tight in his pants, and he lets out a small wheeze as he squeezes his eyes shut. Something about the situation... about Slade pressed up against his back, his teeth on his neck standing in the doorway to the bedroom... something about it is just _doing_ it for him.

"Is this the part where I pin you down and do to you what I did to Bruce?" Will asks, feeling the drag of Slade's tongue against his neck as he releases the bite.

"This is not that part," Slade says. He pushes Will forward, and even with an erection Will isn't uncoordinated enough to stumble.

Which means the room rapidly devolves into a fight. Will does what he can to keep himself from physically damaging anything in the room, but he's not going to let himself go down easily, and Slade isn't either. Neither of them is going to relent. Neither of them is going to go down.

They go up and over the bed, Will retreating back into the closet. There's blood on the doorframe where his shoulder bumps it as Slade backs him in, but Will manages to knock him back, sending Slade tumbling and narrowly missing the bed.

Slade catches him by the throat when Will goes down after him.

"Stop," he snaps, and Will freezes in place. It's more instinct than anything, and Will scowls at him, because if he did it just to get the upper hand...

"You're too goddamn bloody," Slade grunts. "If I get blood on the new bed Bruce is going to kill the both of us."

When Will looks he decides that yes, he _does_ have too much blood on him. He's going to make a mess of the sheets if he doesn't clean up, so he picks himself back up, turning his head to inspect.

Slade does it for him, dragging his fingers through the blood.

"Healed," he says. "Just left over from what I made before."

"Consistent with your rate of healing, not mine," Will points out. "I'm sure Villain would be happy."

"Don't mention him around Bruce, he's still angry," Slade says, pressing a hand to Will's back and pushing him towards the bathroom. "That shirt's ruined."

"It happens," Will says, stripping it off. "Came up here expecting _something_ to get torn."

"Rinse off," Slade says with a wave of his hand, gesturing for Will to head to the bathroom. "I'll clean up the mess we made."

The shower in the master bedroom is downright heavenly, and the water comes out hot an even as Will strips down and climbs in.

He's midway through rinsing off when the bathroom door opens again, and Will glances over his shoulder to find Slade's apparently decided to join him.

There's no discussion. Slade seems to be making an active effort to take up as much room as possible as he corners Will, backing him literally into a corner.

"If you make me choke on your dick, I'm going to bite it," Slade says as he drops down to his knees. There's even a _convenient bit of rubber padding_ for him to rest his knees on set off to the side, which just _screams_ to Will that it's a Bruce-selected feature.

It's the first good look at Slade that Will has gotten. He hasn't really had a chance to look him over, and he wishes they didn't have the shower water distorting him. He wishes he could just take the time to _inspect,_ but instead Slade's going full steam ahead, dipping his head down to lick a stripe up the side of Will's flagging erection.

"Had lot of practice with this?" Will says, tangling his fingers in Slade's short hair. There's not much to grab, but he's not supposed to be grabbing anyway, so he supposes it doesn't matter. Will's expecting a lot of teeth when Slade gets right down to work, but there's none. Slade is _shockingly_ good at sucking dick, and Will has to wonder just how much practice he's got. Was he already good _before_ he married Bruce? Or is it a skill he mastered only recently?

He's good enough that Will soon has a hard time thinking about it. Slade knows just how to work his cock, dragging his tongue across the slit as his hand rolls Will's balls almost absentmindedly. The way he bobs, the way he sucks—he's practically a goddamn _professional,_ and Will has to lean back against the wall of the shower for support, his legs threatening to go out from under him.

Slade seems to catch on that Will's nearing his limit, his hands dipping down to rest on the back of Will's thighs, providing him a bit more support as he dips lower and lower, swallowing the whole damn thing like it's no big deal.

The bathroom door clicks open and Will tries to get Slade to stop to no avail. For a moment he wonders if Bruce popping his head into the bathroom was an overly conveniently timed segue into a threesome, but the look of surprise on Bruce's face looks genuine.

"Don't mind me," he mumbles, looking genuinely embarrassed as he slides into the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he just... just _watches._

Just watches the way Slade's sucking Will off like his goddamn life depends on it.

Whatever awkwardness Will was feeling when Bruce popped the door open goes out the window when Slade gives him the first hint of teeth, the ever so slight _drag_ that sends Will tumbling over the edge. Slade swallows it all down and then pulls back with a pop, looking up at Will with a bemused expression.

"And _that_ is how it's done."

Will's already recovering, catching his breath as Bruce leans in the bathroom door. He's shirtless but dressed in sleeping pants, which gives Will an excellent view of a particularly large scar on his side.

Will wonders how he missed it the first time around, and decides it's simply more obvious from the front. Will guesses it's from shrapnel from the wound pattern, and that it must have happened a while ago.

He wonders, but doesn't ask.

"Hope you don't mind me taking a taste," Slade says with a chuckle as he gets up from the floor, dunking his hair under the water and running his hand through it to clean off.

"I don't mind at all," Bruce says. He looks amused, and Will simply hangs back, observing the two of them. They play off each other so damn easily. "I was hoping, since I was planning on going back to bed for a bit, that you'd join me in bed."

"Slade?" Will asks.

"Both," Bruce counters.

"Don't have pajamas."

"Give me a moment, then. Finish up in here."

Bruce ducks out of the bathroom, and Will speeds through the rest of his shower. He's expecting Bruce to still be gone—it's a hell of a walk—but he arrives back before Will's even finished toweling off, a pair of Will's own pajama pants tucked under his arm.

"How in the hell...?"

"There's a discrete set of staircases on all the floors. For emergencies... but also for sneaking around. Goes from just beside the living room up here to midway down the hall between your room and Alfred's."

"I thought that was a closet."

"Closet's the one beside it," Bruce says, handing over the pajamas.

Will can tell that Bruce and Slade are checking him out. Bruce is trying to be subtle about it, but Slade sure as hell isn't, his eyes raking up and down Will's body.

"We've got a few hours," Bruce observes. "And I'm still tired. I'm sure you think of this as a... an invitation, but..." He seems to be struggling to find the words, so Slade clarifies.

"He's hoping for cuddling, not fucking," Slade says with a snort. He winds an arm around Bruce's waist, pulling him in closer.

"If that's fine," Bruce says quickly.

Will was definitely expecting fucking, but he supposes literally going to bed with them won't be so bad. He lets himself get pulled into the bedroom and down into the bed. It's big and maybe a shade too soft, and they almost immediately end up in a tangle of limbs. There's a bit of shuffling before Bruce finally settles into the middle, and Slade presses himself against Bruce's back while Will curls up near his front.

Will doesn't expect Bruce to sleep. He doesn't understand how he _can,_ given the circumstances.

But he does. He's out within five minutes, face buried in the pillow.

Will does what he can to follow him, but it's not quite so easy for him.


	51. Chapter 51

Will spends the better part of the afternoon dozing, Bruce's arm draped lightly across his side. The man sleeps like a log, but over Bruce's shoulder Will can see Slade moving ever so slightly. Will wonders if he's shifting in his sleep, or if he's actually just awake, and eventually Will gets too restless, slipping out of bed and leaving the two behind. Slade _is_ awake when he leaves the bed, craning his neck to watch Will go, and gives him a small wave before nuzzling into Bruce's back.

Will locates the mostly hidden stairs down, taking them down a floor and realizing that Bruce wasn't exaggerating: they really _do_ serve as a path almost directly between the bedrooms. He makes a note to tell Joey and Thad about them just in case, and then goes to change.

He makes food at the Kents, serving it up in two batches. The first gets mostly eaten by the Kents themselves, while the Wilson-Waynes eat the second time around. By then, Bruce is awake enough to join them, and the rest of the meal passes without any sort of issue.

Will's not entirely surprised when Clark effectively calls a meeting once everything is done.

"I just wanted to make sure everyone's on the same page," Clark says to the room. They're crammed in, the Kent house lacking a space large enough for entertaining so many people. "Myself, Lois, and our boys will be taking Era, Joey, and Thad with us this Friday. Hal will be showing up, probably with at least one other Lantern, and transporting us to Kandor. We'll be there from Friday to the second Saturday or Sunday, at which point we'll return. We're not expecting any fighting, and it'll be a... a cultural exchange of sorts."

"Jonathan and I will be staying," Martha Kent says, reaching out to rest her hand on Jonathan's arm. "I don't think space travel would agree with either of us, and someone needs to watch the house."

No one points out that they could certainly have one of the Wilson-Waynes do it. It's obviously a pretense, and Will doesn't blame them. Clark's parents are old, and the idea of flying halfway across the galaxy to an alien planet doesn't sound appealing to them.

"In the meanwhile, the rest of us are going to be investigating the League of Shadows lead," Bruce says. "We know where the coordinates go, but we don't know what's at the other end. We're assuming a Lazarus pit, but it's important we don't go _too_ far with that assumption before confirming."

None of the Kents look surprised by the explanation, which means Clark's been keeping them up to date.

"Will, Jason, Damian and I are going to be handling the investigation," Slade says. "Bruce and Alfred will stay here to coordinate and maintain the manor in the meanwhile. We're going to be collecting a person of interest on Thursday, and depending on the circumstances will either leave Thursday afternoon or possibly Friday morning for Europe."

"Have we considered visiting Kate?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. "Do we even know which part of Europe she's in?"

"Travelling," Bruce says. "So... no. I'd have to call her."

"Not that big a deal," Slade says. "Pass me her info, and we can call her if we have some free time. See if we can't finally meet up with your elusive cousin."

The fact that they haven't spent any time with her strikes Will as odd, but he supposes there's nothing that can be done about it. The impromptu meeting wraps up, but on the way back to the house Slade falls into step beside him.

"You should call Villain and have him check you out before we go," he says. "You've got tomorrow free, and Bruce wants us to be _sure_ before you go into any sort of risky situation."

Which is fair enough.

"I'll call him," Will says. "See if we can't get him to check me out."

Villain answers the phone despite the late hour, and seems _very_ excited for the chance to come out and check Will himself. They arrange an appointment the next day, and Will does what he can not to think about how goddamn _excited_ Villain sounded.

When Villain shows up the following morning, he looks even more eager than usual. Slade keeps Bruce well away from him, letting Will take point, and Villain sets up down in the empty space of the cave. He takes blood samples, runs a few tests, and then does the most basic test Will can imagine by making a small cut on his arm, recording the size, and watching as it heals.

"The differences between the two rates of healing was significant, but most obvious on a macro scale. Considering I can hardly take off an arm to test, this will have to do," he explains, using a camera to take timestamped photos as the injury heals. A minor cut like that shouldn't take any time at all, and it doesn't, fully healed without any sign it was there at all within five minutes.

"Based on the timing, the process was a success," Villain says, looking pleased with himself as he straightens up. "Obviously, any injury you have should be recorded and the data forwarded on to ARGUS for us to analyze, but I am confident enough to declare this a success."

"So I'm going to age?" Will asks, his fingers dragging over the freshly healed skin. He wants to age. He wants to stop worrying about it. He wants to stop having to _think_ about it.

Hell, he wouldn't even mind being aged up a few years.

"Exactly," Villain says. "You should age the same way Slade does now. You'll be _very_ healthy for your effective age, but you'll still start to show it more consistently as time goes on."

Will feels a flood of relief as he nods, and Villain starts to pack his things up. Will makes sure that Villain makes it off the grounds without Bruce mauling him, and then retires back to the manor to let everyone know the good news.

He finds Joey first, largely by coincidence. His storage room is open, and when Will leans in he finds Joey in the process of neatly wrapping up some of his paintings.

"Sold them?"

Joey glances over his shoulder to look at Will, then shakes his head.

 _No,_ he signs. _Just making sure they're safely stored. I've had some offers for different paintings, but I haven't accepted any._

"Having a hard time letting go?"

Will can relate to that in a very roundabout way.

 _More or less,_ Joey signs. _I've never painted to sell before. If I'm going to do this as a job, I need to figure out how to monetize it. Selling prints and the reproduction rights is an option, but it's a lot of work._

"Commissions?"

 _I'm worried about burning out,_ Joey signs. _A lot of commissions... painting nothing but portraits for the wealthy seems like a fast track to burning out._

"Can't say I know shit else about art, so I'll leave you too it," Will says with a wave. "I wanted to let you know that Villain just left. I'm aging normally now."

 _You know that wasn't as big a deal to me as it was to you, right pop?_ Joey signs, playing it off like he didn't mind at all.

But it's hard for him to miss the way Joey had started to smile before he'd caught himself.

Even if Joey's wanting to play it off as something that didn't bother him, it's clear enough that he _did_ care.

But it's done now.

"I'll tell Thad when he get back," Will says. "Can you let Jason if you see him?"

 _He's at work,_ Joey signs, confirming Will's suspicions. _But I'll let him know._

Will tells most people himself, and generally the reactions range somewhere between neutral and positive. When he tells Thad after class, he has the harshest reaction, seeming almost upset.

"...Everything okay?" Will asks warily.

"I just don't like to think about you... getting older. Going away."

"You've got a long, _long_ time before you have to worry about that," Will says with a small laugh. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Thad's head, and Thad seems to relax, comforted by the physical contact enough to let it go.

Will just hopes it stays gone.


	52. Chapter 52

Thursday is largely dedicated to Tara. There's a lot of details that need to get dealt with, a lot of minor notes that have to be addressed.

They insist on Will wearing the ikon suit to the meeting in case things go wrong, but he wears other clothes over it, minimizing the odds he'll be recognized. He's surprised to find that the arm's been repaired, the detached piece neatly reattached, and that helps hide his metal arm without him having to put any effort in.

"We're letting you off the leash on this one," Slade says in their final discussion before Will's meeting. "You're the one who knows her the best, and you've got the best odds of bringing her in."

"Remember to get a photo," Bruce reminds him. "Even if we can't bring her—"

"I'm going to bring her," Will says simply. He's confident. He's recruited her once at this age, and he doesn't think he should have too much trouble repeating the process here.

Plus, he has _much_ better incentives this time around.

He doesn't bring his sword or a gun—that would send the wrong message—in favor of dressing as casually as he can manage. Outside of his gloves, he dresses like he's going to a business meeting, opting to look professional as he can in the hope she won't spook.

He doesn't need to have bothered. From the moment he enters the shady bar Wintergreen's picked out as a meeting point an hour later, Will knows she recognizes him. There's something in her demeanor, in the way she cocks her head the second he opens the door. She _knows,_ he realizes, so he dispenses with the pretense.

He takes a seat at the little table she's chosen to sit at. It's up against the wall, and Will can't help but note that the wall is made of stone.

Fantastic, just what he needs: an excellent opportunity for his head to get bashed in.

"Deathstroke," Tara says. She looks just like he remembers her. Young and trying to pass herself off as older. She's 15—he knows as much—but someone else might mistake her for seventeen or eighteen depending on how much attention they're paying.

"Terra," he says. "Or would you prefer Tara?"

"Terra," she says immediately, which doesn't bode well. She has a drink—it smells like rum—and she ever so casually takes the glass, drinking it without breaking eye contact as if just to prove she can. "So what does the great Deathstroke want with me? I didn't think you were the type to be interested in my services."

She winks and Will feels his stomach turn over. The fact that he was willing to put someone like her at risk... She's almost the same age as Thad, and the parallel makes him feel ill.

"I have an offer for you," he says simply. "One I think you'd be interested in."

"Oh, you think that, do you?" She asks, sipping her drink. "I'm sure you're an expert in what I'm interested in."

"I happen to be," Will says. It feels harder to keep his cool than he'd like. He can't stop himself from thinking about the fact that Tara and Thad should be classmates. They're kids. She's a _kid._ And what feels like a lifetime ago, he used her as a weapon against the Titans and nearly got her killed.

"I know who you are," Will says. "I knew the you in my dimension. Knew what she was like, the sort of things she was after. You went a bad way in my world, and I'm hoping to course correct."

"I'm perfectly happy where I am," she says, her eyes narrowing.

"Of course you are," he says. "You've got freedom, and for you that's all that matters. You don't need anyone else. But you're putting your talents to waste where you are, and the writing's on the wall. With how the League is working so closely with world governments, how long before that becomes official? How long before the superheroes of today are pulling a paycheck in exchange for dealing with people like you? The age where mercenaries like you and I could go unchecked is over."

And she's missed it.

He believes everything he said, which does a lot towards selling the point. He can see the hesitation on her face, can see the way her micro-expressions flicker, and then she tilts her head, regarding him a great deal more coldly than she was before.

"And what is it you're offering, exactly?"

"Tara Markov, you're a princess. Years ago you were forced to flee from your place in the world because of a coup which planned to kill the King and install one of your brothers as the King, allowing the Queen to rule as regent." Will's done his homework, so he lays it out for her quickly and easily. "Your father was killed first, and you'd have died the same night if your nanny hadn't fled the castle with you. Unfortunately for her, the Queen underestimated her sons. Rather than allowing their mother to get away with it, a month after the coup the princes rallied those their father had trusted who still remained and proceeded to charge her with high treason. Unfortunately in the fallout, Gregor was killed, leaving only Brion behind."

"And me," Tara says. She looks deadly serious, clearly wondering where the hell Will's going with things.

"And you," he confirms. "Markovia's been ruled by a single family since it was founded hundreds of years ago. Half the royal family was executed by the Nazi's during the second world war, which means there are only _two_ Markov's remaining."

"And Brion will have me executed to ensure his place on the throne."

"Brion is desperate for a family," Will says. He can't be sure, but he can guess. He can look at the similarities between realities. He can look at how things played out, at his reactions. "He'd welcome you back with open arms. In the span of a few months he lost his younger sister, both of his parents, and his elder brother. He'd do anything to have you all back."

"And what's in this for you?" Tara asks. She's smart—she knows there's another angle.

"Your brother already knows you're still alive. I gave him information when we crossed paths months ago, but he's had a hard time tracking you down. He doesn't have the resources I do, or the connections. But you're right: there is an angle for us. I need to look into something in Markovia, and it would be a hell of a lot easier to do if we had the King's blessing."

"I don't see what's in it for me," Tara says, leaning back in her seat, her arms folding across her chest.

"Then you're an idiot," Will says with a wave of his hand. "You're a princess. One of only two members of the Markovian royal family. You'd have a castle with servants and who the hell knows what else. Right now you have no stability. Regardless of how you feel about him, go back to your brother. Play the part of the princess. There are things you can get there you aren't going to get anywhere else."

Like money. Like a position of power.

But also _family._ Respect. The love of the people. Will knows that Tara's going to say yes to take advantage of the monetary benefits, but he's hoping that being in a better environment might mellow her out.

"So let me get this straight," she says. "You want me to come along with you to Markovia where you'll reunite me with my half brother, and in exchange he'll let you go sneaking around Markovia for whatever it is you're trying to do. What's stopping me from just going to him right _now?"_

"Nothing," Will says. "But we've got a more comfortable jet, and can fly directly there rather than what you'd have to deal with... which would be a lot of people not believing you as you argue with an embassy that your case should be bounced up the chain. Your brother might not even hear about it for days still."

Convenience has always mattered to Tara. She hates wasting time, and he appeals to that right then, watching the way she considers his points.

"Deal," she says. "When do we leave?"

If only _everything_ was that easy.


	53. Chapter 53

The absolute last thing Will wants to do is let Tara anywhere near his family, but he doesn't really have a lot of options. She's eager to leave _right then,_ doesn't have an actual place she's staying, and outside of a brief trip to pick up her bag she's already ready to go.

Which means Will gets to call the family and warn them.

"Get her?" Slade asks as Will starts the drive back to the manor.

"She's in the car with me," Will says, his eyes sliding over to where Tara sits in the passenger seat, her hand dangling out the window. "I think we should get ready to go."

"The boys are going to want to say goodbye."

"It'll have to be short," Will says. He doesn't trust Tara alone in the car, for one. "They won't be gone _that_ long."

"Thad's not even a year old," Slade points out. "A week and a half is a long time."

It's a fair point, and Will grumbles a bit, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, before sighing.

"Alright. Can you say your goodbyes and then come handle the car for me? Is everyone else ready to go?"

"Ready for days," Slade says. "I'll meet you near the entrance."

Slade's good to his word, meeting Will near the entrance. He eyes Tara with obvious apprehension as Will hops out, leaving the princess to be in Slade's distinctly unimpressed hands. Will's expecting her to flirt with him, but he's hoping that the fact that Slade's openly gay _and_ married might dissuade her.

The rest of the family's waiting in the entrance-way, and Thad zips right up to him, pouting in Will's direction.

"I can't believe you're leaving _early,"_ he protests.

"You know how this stuff goes, Thad," Will says, reaching down to ruffle his hair. He bends down, putting himself on eye level with Thad, and gives his sternest, most intimidating look.

"Joey's in charge," he says, "but that doesn't mean you can ignore Clark. If anything goes wrong, get Clark to call Hal to bring you home. No matter where I am, I will drop everything and meet you, alright?"

Thad nods his head, so Will stands up. Most people are looking at him, their goodbyes apparently already finished, and Bruce raises an eyebrow.

"...That's it? No 'remember to behave?'"

"He was with the Titans for months," Will points out. "Thad knows better than to misbehave. Really doesn't need some great big reminder about how misbehaving is bad."

Bruce huffs, but doesn't really argue.

Joey pulls Will into a hug, but not before giving him strict instructions to keep Tara out of trouble. Will doesn't blame him for that one, considering all the trouble Tara tends to get into, but uses it as a convenient excuse for why he needs to give Joey an extra long hug.

Clark and his family stop by a bit late to say his own goodbyes, but they're far briefer. The family's used to not seeing Clark or Jon for more than a week at a time, and the goodbye is largely a pretense.

Thad's goodbye is last, and Will makes sure it's just as long as the one he gave to Joey. It's the first time he's really been _apart_ from Thad, and it feels almost painful when he finally gets go, straightening up and giving Thad's hair one last ruffle.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Will says with a wink, and Bruce rolls his eyes in response.

With the goodbyes finished, Will grabs his supplies and goes to grab a second car. Bruce opts to come along with them to bring one of the cars home, but Will suspects that the secondary motive is simply wanting a proper goodbye of his own, even if they don't think they'll be gone even a full 48 hours.

He's proven right when they reach the airport. Bruce says his goodbyes to Jason and Damian, sending them off to board the plane, and when Tara is out of sight he risks a quick peck of Will's cheek before sending him off after them. Will boards the plane to find Tara enthusiastically hitting on Jason while Damian scowls aggressively at her, and opts to take one for the team, planting himself down between Jason and Tara.

"Oh," she says with a wink. "Couldn't resist getting even closer, could you?"

Damian looks downright scandalized.

Slade joins them on board, dropping his bag near the back of the plane before grabbing the seat beside Damian, firmly ignoring the awkward tension in the room. Will knows better than to rise to Tara's bait, giving her no response to her flirting as the plane takes off.

Inevitably, Tara finds the lot of them _boring._ Jason's blocked from view with both seats by him taken, and Damian is apparently of no interest to her despite them being almost the same age. When Will isn't going to respond, she makes an attempt at Slade, who looks up from his tablet with a distinctly unimpressed look.

"There are a half dozen reasons why this isn't going to work," he says. "The fact that you're a child is near the top of the list, but the fact that I'm married and gay mean you're wasting your time. No one on this plane is going to flirt with you, so you can stop wasting your time."

Tara _hmphs_ and reclines the seat as far back as it will go, turning her attention to her phone.

It's a long, long flight. There always seems to be someone napping, and Will tries to do the same. He has a hard time though, constantly wary of Tara's obvious interest in him. He doesn't _think_ she'll try anything, but considering he knows that Tara acted as a thief before... well, he makes sure he doesn't have anything in his pocket before he finally lets himself doze.

They're starting their descent when Will leans over to Slade, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Do we have anyone waiting for us?"

"They're waiting," Slade confirms. "Bruce called after midnight for us—their very early morning—to explain things. Used some diplomatic channels to get in touch with the King's people."

As much as getting Tara was his plan, he's desperate to hand her off. She's a constant reminder of his own mistakes, and she's clearly making Jason and Damian uncomfortable.

Will does the math in his head. They left at six, which was midnight for Markovia. The eight hour flight means it's two in the morning for them, and eight in the morning locally. The boys are going to be going through a whole lot of jetlag, and considering that Damian's drooling in his seat Will expects they're not even going to properly adjust before they're flying back.

"When we land," Will says quietly, "I'll handle Tara and the king. Can you corral your boys?"

"I'll grab them and unload the plane."

"Is it waiting for us?"

"It's going to stand by until we tell them whether we need them or not, so yes. Cheaper to put them up in a local hotel and pay to store the plane a few days, considering the privacy we may or may not need."

There's no telling what they'll be coming with. Samples of pit fluid at the minimum, Will guesses, and that's not something they'll be able to bring on a commercial flight.

Slade excuses himself to check how long they have, and when he returns he flashes a quick _five_ to Will.

Will opts to let the bump of the landing wake Tara up.


	54. Chapter 54

It isn't the first time Will's dealt with a royal welcome. Not by a long shot.

The rest of the group (save Tara, who looks half asleep) seem less certain, but Will doesn't hesitate to stroll right on out onto the tarmac as if he doesn't have a care in the goddamn world.

Someone's obviously gone to great lengths to minimize how obvious the King's presence is, but there's only so much that can really be done. There are _no_ other planes landing or taking off, every plane at Markovia's largest airport having been suddenly and mysteriously grounded. Their plane has taxied to a corner of the airport, well away from prying eyes, and there's an entire motorcade of official looking blacked out vehicles lined up around the side of the plane, even if no one's exited them yet.

Will's dressed the same way he was when he met Tara, and he supposes the suit makes him look nice and official for meeting royalty. Not that he hasn't already _met_ King Brion, but that was under a very different set of circumstances in a country that _didn't_ dedicate a considerable amount of their time and energy from keeping the only known member of the royal family didn't get himself killed.

Will adjusts his cuff links as Tara disembarks, and it's only then that people start to emerge from the cars. It's a lot of bodyguards, a few officials, and then he finally spots Brion, who looks downright ecstatic. Some of his men are apparently trying to make sure he doesn't yell Tara's name, but it clear he wants to as Tara steps up beside Will.

"Try not to be _too_ friendly," Will grumbles. "We wouldn't want him liking you, after all."

She shoots him a dirty look, which Will ignores, but when Brion approaches her face splits into a wide grin.

"Brion!" She calls, before dropping into rusty Markovian. _"I thought for sure I would never see you again."_

"Tara," Brion says, nudging his way through his obviously paranoid guards. _"When I heard that you had survived... Finding you here is a blessing."_ He reaches forward, taking her hands in his and giving them a squeeze. _"To think that my little sister lived..."_

Will's wheedling has done its job. Tara's almost a completely different person, playing the part of a sister happy to be reunited with her long lost brother. Will would feel bad about the deception if he wasn't hoping that the whole thing would end as a _fake it till you make it_ scenario.

"And Mr. Wilson," Brion says, dropping back to English. "There are not words for how thankful I am. You've reunited me with my younger sister..."

Brion obviously doesn't think he knows Markovian, which he's dead wrong about. Will doesn't dissuade him of the notion, though.

"I'm happy to get a chance to ensure that this Tara has a happier outcome than the one I knew," Will says. "And I'm thankful for any help that Markovia is willing to offer to the League in our investigation."

"Of course," Brion says immediately. "Whatever you need, you'll have. Mr. Wayne-Wilson mentioned there were coordinates you were to investigate, but that the location was remote?"

"From what we understand, there's no roads to where we're going. With your permission, we'll simply take a cab as close as we can get and hike the rest of the way there."

"I will have my men escort you," Brion says. "You're guests in my country, I can hardly just send you in a taxi."

Will doesn't argue that he _absolutely_ can.

"Have you eaten?" Brion asks, glancing between the two of them before his eyes flick up, looking over Will's shoulder. Will spares a quick glance, spotting Slade and the boys disembarking, and then waves them over.

"We haven't," Will says. "We left in the afternoon for us, and most of us slept on the flight."

"Please, then," Brion says, gesturing behind him. "You can eat in the castle while I make arrangements for your transport."

As Deathstroke, Will knows he'd have said no. He doesn't like wasting that kind of time for a too-fancy meal. But they're effectively there as representatives of the League, and that means they have to play politics.

"Of course," Will says. "We'd be honored."

"It is I who is honored by what you've done for us," Brion says, turning his attention to Tara. "We have a great deal to catch up on, after all."

He isn't surprised when Tara and Brion end up leaving in a car together, and is even less surprised when the guards they're left with are clearly suspicious. As far as they know, one of them is _Deathstroke,_ and he can only imagine how paranoid they would be if they knew that half the goddamn party is Deathstrokes.

There's a brief attempt to search, which Slade shuts down.

"That's a no," Slade says. "I'm not having you break our equipment. The fact of the matter is that we're dangerous no matter what you do or don't find, and you're going to treat us like we're dangerous regardless, so you can save yourself the time and not goddamn bother."

The guards break off to confer, but eventually settle for keeping everyone a good distance from the King.

Or at least they try. Brion is having none of it, and when they arrive to breakfast and the guards try and sit them away from the king he _insists_ on them being moved closer, much to the guards annoyance.

But the food is good, and the meal doesn't actually take _that_ long. Brion is an excellent host, making great conversation as he slowly seems to wear down Tara. She looks like she's deflating under her brother's cheerful onslaught, while Damian and Jason seem to be slowly waking up, invigorated by the food.

The food's nearly done when one of Brion's men approaches him, leaning down to whisper quietly. Will listens in, but it doesn't matter, because Brion announces the information immediately after.

"My men have convinced me that it would be better to allow you to go on your own to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. A vehicle equipped for offroading will be made available to you, but I assume you can already handle directions to your destination?"

"We know where we're going," Slade confirms. "Bruce can direct us remotely, and I've already taken a good look at a map of your country."

"Then I hope you will stay in touch," Brion says. "I owe you all a great deal for bringing Tara back, after all."

Tara looks absolutely bored out of her skull as she picks at her eggs. She doesn't even look up at the mention of her name, and Will suspects that _being a princess_ isn't going to quite play out the way she'd hoped.

Her loss.


	55. Chapter 55

The trip to the coordinates should take no more than three hours, but they all know it's not going to be that easy. Once Brion's done with formalities, they're let loose in a rugged and well worn looking SUV and left to make their own way. The trip to the closest village to their objective takes the better part of two hours and ends with them parking at the end of a path that can't even be called a street anymore when it finally dead ends.

By then they have Bruce on the line, checking in with them and double checking their GPS coordinates.

"As the crow flies, you're maybe an hour away," Bruce tells them.

"The crow can fly right up my ass," Will gripes. The terrain is densely wooded hills, the absolute _worst_ kind of terrain. There's no path at all, forcing them to trudge through high grasses and other plant-life, and in the first hour they don't even make it a quarter of the distance. It's a constant up and down with a fair bit of backtracking, and Jason and Damian are absolutely dying by the second hour.

"My thighs are killing me," Jason complains as they hike right back up a hill, having just spent the better part of ten minutes descending down to the base of it.

"We'll carry you guys if you want," Slade says, looking no worse for the wear.

"Absolutely not," Damian announces as he wheezes his way back up the hill. "I could go for days!"

They make it another two hours before they stop for a break. Jason and Damian end up sprawled on the forest floor in the closest thing to a clearing they've managed to find, drinking from the water bottles someone smartly thought to pack.

"How far away are we?" Jason says desperately. "Why is this place so _hilly?"_

"Because no one's ever going to find shit here," Will points out. "That's literally the advantage of this place. We could have walked over a dozen bases and not even noticed. For all we know there's a trap door in the base of every tree we pass. In such a remote area, _maybe_ a local might notice. But we're hours out from the closest village, and the odds are bordering on lottery-winning to find anything by chance."

"The local village is also relatively recent," Bruce points out. "The original village was closer to the capitol, but was destroyed during the second world war. They moved to flatter, safer ground."

"There's my point," Will says. "For all we know, this was even more remote when it was first built. Ra's has been around forever."

They start up again after a bit, but it's slow going. The brush is thick, the trees are everywhere, and the ground's uneven. It's slow, awful travelling, and the fact that everyone's thinking _this would be easier with a flier_ isn't hard to realize.

With the tree cover, it's hard to tell where _exactly_ the coordinates lead. In the end Bruce can only lead them to a general area and let them loose. Calling it a valley is being far too charitable, and when Jason calls it a _soggy gulch_ Will decides that fits better. They've got a good thirty feet square to go over and absolutely nothing by way of landmarks to go off of.

The group doesn't find the entrance so much as they trip over it. Damian nearly sprains his ankle on a particularly large tree root, and when he bends down to inspect it he lets out a surprised yelp.

"I think it's here!" Damian calls, and they all drop whatever the hell plan they had going to check.

He's right. There's a flagstone that's clearly been placed there intentionally, but it's half-buried under dirt. The only reason it's uneven with the ground is because the same tree root that tripped Damian has lifted one of the edges. That fact alone is enough to make Will suspicious, and when he works together with Slade to haul the stone up and out of the way that suspicion only rises.

There's a tunnel under the stone leading down into the earth. It's narrow and clearly man-made, and the air smells stale and musty. Just at a glance, Will knows the tunnel hasn't been used in years, but how many years is hard to determine.

There's no additions or decorations. There's no handrails or electric lighting, and the tunnel simply spirals down into darkness as it descends into the earth.

"I was thinking maybe Ra's hadn't been here in a decade," Jason says as he stares down into the tunnel. "But this is... this might be older than that. Before the village moved, even."

"What are we planning to do?" Damian asks, leaning over to look down alongside Jason. "All four of us, or...?"

"We'll set up the relay out here," Slade says, already starting to pull out supplies. "We don't want to lose contact with Bruce. Damian, can you carry the tablet?"

It's clear to Will that Slade, Jason, and Damian have done this sort of thing before, because there's a clear ease to the way Damian sets the whole thing up. There's a small satellite dish set up just outside, and he clips the table from it directly into the tablet, spooling it out as they start to descend into the tunnel, flashlight in hand. Damian takes up the rear, while Slade goes first, with Jason and Will sandwiched in between them.

It isn't an enjoyable experience. The passage was clearly designed for someone _much_ smaller than either Slade or Will, and Will has to angle his body, going down the passage at an angle to keep his shoulders from catching on the walls.

They go down maybe a single story before it suddenly levels out. The tunnel here is sloped downward, but it looks natural. The walls are uneven, and the more Will looks the more convinced he becomes that the entrance was specifically designed to provide access to a cave system that was already there. There are a lot of small nooks and alcoves, dead ends that never really go anywhere, but the air smells foul. They can't be certain how large the cave system is, so they call a halt, digging into Will's bag for masks to cover their faces.

"For the dust," Will says. "And whatever bacteria might have been cooking down here."

He doesn't want to think about it, but it's clear to him that the place was abandoned long before Ra's died. It's too old, too small. It hearkens back to something much older than a few decades.

They walk for another five minutes before the ground suddenly evens out, the cave system dead ending in front of an obviously man-made wall. The stone that makes it up have obviously been worked, but it's clear that the whole structure's been put together with some degree of skill.

"At least _this_ looks like something the League would have put together," Jason observes. There's a door set in the wall, but calling it a _gate_ is probably more accurate. It's two panels set in barely hidden pivots, with something that looks like a lock set in the center of the door. The lock itself is rusted beyond recognition, parts of it literally flaking off, and Will adds another significant digit to his guess of how long the place has been there.

"No key," Damian observes. "I could pick it if we could get the rust off—"

"Nope," Will says. He grabs what's protruding of the lock in one hand and _wrenches_ it downward, the rust having weakened it enough that the whole structure collapses in his hand. From there, it's easy enough to widen the hole, pressing his hand inside and squeezing the mechanism to make the door release.

"This is old," Jason says quietly. "Really old. This has to be... I mean, this is _hundreds_ of years old. Should we be... I don't know, getting a team of archaeologists?"

"Not until we know there's nothing dangerous in here," Slade says. "Pits take priority over whatever history there might have been here."

Will has to agree. There's too much value in a pit, considering that as far as Will's been told all of them have been destroyed. He teams up with Slade to haul the doors open, wary about the structure of the room they're opening failing.

But it holds. The League of Assassins apparently didn't skimp on workmen, because no part of the room they enter has collapsed. It isn't very large, maybe twenty feet square, and set up like a goddamn _medieval workshop._ There's shelves across the walls, a workbench, and what Will assumes was once a storage space. One corner of the room has what look like simple railings set up to keep people out of it, and there's another door set in the corner opposite it.

It's also empty. Beyond the obvious _there's no one inside,_ almost the entire room's been emptied out. There's nothing on the shelves but a few leftovers, some empty glass containers that Ra's clearly decided weren't worth taking and lots of dust. The workbench is empty, and as they spread out through the room Will keeps expecting to find... something as he casts his flashlight across it.

It's Jason who finds it first though. He lets out a noise of pure frustration and everyone's attention turns to him where he stands in front of the railing.

It's clear from a glance that the corner of the room was once a Lazarus pit, but it's also just as clear that it's bone dry. It couldn't have been very deep to begin with, but even a shallow pit would have been enough for Ra's to study from.

But it isn't the pit that draws Will's attention, but instead Jason's reaction. He's upset, genuinely bothered by the whole thing, and Will can't figure out _why_ as Slade gathers Jason up into his arms. Will's doing what he can not to listen, averting his eyes from the show of raw emotion between the two as Slade comforts Jason. Damian moves over to join them, and Will busies himself looking at nothing on the shelf.

It takes a few minutes for the group to pull it together, by which Jason's caught enough of the conversation to understand. Jason was hoping for a pit to use for himself, which kicks off a small but heated argument between the trio (and Damian in particular) about the risks.

As far as Will's concerned, Jason's right: The risks of him using it once to get rid of his scars and ease his wounds are absolutely worth it. The madness that afflicted Ra's was always temporary, and the long term effects were just that: Long term. One use isn't going to make or break anyone, and considering how much of Jason's life is fixated on his old injuries...

Well, to Will it seems like an obvious choice.

"Sorry," Jason says when things have wrapped up. The dark makes it harder to see, but Will can imagine what his face must look like, streaked with half-cried tears. "I didn't think I'd be so... bothered by this."

"That's because it doesn't make sense," Damian says. "An abandoned League of Assassin's headquarters is interesting, but has no value. Why would Ra's hide the encrypted coordinates in his favorite dagger? It's nonsensical."

There's a clear time delay on Bruce's actions, considering everything the tablet's recording needs to get transmitted half a world away, but they turn to the tablet anyway as Damian holds it up.

"Damian's right," Bruce says. "This doesn't make any sense. Considering that the coordinates were encoded, we can rule out the possibility that it's intended for someone else, so that means the coordinates were either Ra's note to himself, or a message to his heir."

Or both, Will thinks, but keeps his mouth shut.

"The level of secrecy for an abandoned cave system is too high. The fact that Damian hasn't heard of it, that he has no idea... there has to be _something_ there that's still worth being hidden."

"Last door," Slade says, flicking his flashlight over to the door in the corner. Will had more or less forgotten about it in light of finding the dried up pit, but the pit... 

The pit might not be the most important thing there.

Damian tries the door, but there's no lock so it slides open with a bit of effort. There's a small obviously man-made corridor behind it, and it's even narrower than the last one.

"These goddamn tunnels," Will grumbles as he goes down it sideways.

"You curse a lot when Thad isn't around," Damian observes, and Will mentally runs back through the last few hours.

"...Yeah," he admits. He hadn't been giving it much thought, but he supposes he _did_ used to swear a lot. The only reason he hasn't so much lately is because he's been around people he's not supposed to swear around.

"We've got something," Jason calls from just ahead. There's not much room to stand, so Will's forced to rely on the others to tell him what's going on.

"Stone door. No lock," Slade says.

"It's got something carved in it," Damian says. "It's got... this is Arabic, Markovian, and... Latin."

"League Arabic?"

"Normal Arabic," Damian says, then corrects himself. "Well, old normal Arabic."

"Let me guess," Will says. "It's a warning."

Even in the dim lighting Will can see Damian nod his head, passing off the tablet so that he can lean forward, inspecting the door.

"It's the same message for the Latin and the Arabic, so I guess it's probably the same on the last one too. The message is..." His face scrunches up as he struggles to read the carvings, mentally translating them back. "It's a warning for sure. It's... This place holds no treasure. It is not a place of honor. There is great danger inside which is..." He squints, hesitating for a moment. "Sorry, I don't know that word."

"Just keep going," Slade says, nudging Damian's shoulder.

"It says there's great danger inside," Damian continues. "The danger is a great threat to humanity. It should be... it should be left in place, undisturbed. The jar must not be opened." He pauses, then straightens up, reaching up to tap a symbol near the top. "That's grandfather's symbol. So this was a place made by him."

"The language seems simplistic," Jason points out. "I guess to make it easier to translate?"

"To make it harder for it to be misunderstood," Slade guesses. "So we have... this."

They exchange a glance.

"...It's a warning," Damian points out. "He said it was a threat to humanity."

"The wording makes it sound like he was trying to future proof it. Like he wanted to make sure that in five hundred years, someone coming down would know to leave it be," Jason says.

"...Are we actually going to listen?" Damian asks, glancing between the rest of them. "Maybe... maybe it would be better to leave it be."

"It's Ra's," Bruce says in the silence. "Not knowing is the worst possibility. The more we know, the better."

"You heard the man," Slade says. "Let's get this door open. Jason, Damian? Behind us, thanks."

Which involves a lot of awkward squishing through the tiny tunnel. Thankfully none of them are claustrophobic, but Jason _does_ seem fairly high strung, keeping close to the others as if to remind himself that they're there. Will wonders if it's the fact that they're in a dingy, poorly lit space, the loss of the pit, or some other element of the situation, but decides that the less time they spend down there, the better.

It's a joint effort to get the door open, with Damian handling the flashlight while Jason holds onto the tablet. It's heavy and unwieldy, but it opens more easily than the first door, revealing an almost _painfully_ unassuming room.

It looks mostly natural with some parts of the wall rounded down, a small circular room that's just large enough for them all to enter with some space left over. There's a pedestal that stands about waist high in the center of the room, but there's nothing actually _on_ it.

"...No jar," Jason observes, flashing his light around the room. There's even less in this room then there was in the last one. Really, it's nothing more than the empty pedestal and smoothed down walls. Will has absolutely no goddamn idea what he's looking for, so it's a relief when Slade inspects the pedestal and finds something, calling them over.

"The pedestal lifts," he points out. "Lift and twist, and it should pop open."

"...Is this the jar?" Damian asks, and Jason shakes his head, pointing down.

"I think _that's_ the jar," he says. "I think... we're on the lid of the jar."

"How goddamn big is this thing?" Will mutters to himself. "If this is the lid, the 'jar' would have to be..."

"Really big," Jason says, finishing his thought. "At least thirty feet down unless it's _really_ weirdly shaped."

"Just open it already," Slade snaps. "I don't want to stand around here all day. Let's open it up, find out what it is, and figure it out from there."

It only takes Slade. The pedestal is hollowed out and far lighter than it works, so it's just a matter of Slade getting a good grip, lifting with his whole body as he twists it up. The stone around it lifts as well, revealing a three foot hole that descends down into pitch blackness. There's no stairs, just _pit,_ so Will angles his flashlight down as they lean over to see what's down there. Despite Slade's obvious attempt to keep the boys back, all four of them crowd around it, trying to figure out what the hell they're looking at.

Will's not sure what he should be expecting. A monster? Some kind of weapon?

But the absolute last thing he's expecting when he stares down into the pit is absolutely not a filthy human face staring up at them from the bottom of the pit, still _unmistakably_ alive.


	56. Chapter 56

It isn't instant. For Will, it takes a second to put the pieces together and realize just what—and who—he's looking at.

Because he's definitely a _who._ It's a man, the thick black beard making that much obvious. It's hard to see much at the angle they're at, staring straight down into the pit as the figure stares up at them, but after a second Will realizes that he doesn't _need_ to see more.

Because he knows who's down there.

"Nope," Will says, grabbing Damian and Jason's shirts and hauling them back, away from the edge. "Slade, you put that lid on this _right goddamn now."_

This isn't happening. He's not doing this. The man has to be thirty feet down, but he's not ruling out the possibility that the man will figure out a way to climb his way out of the pit anyway. He wants the lid _on._

"What the hell's going on?" Slade asks, making no move to put the lid back. "Will—"

"That—that's a _person,"_ Jason chokes. To Will's intense frustration he realizes that Jason is going to be a _massive_ hurdle for the situation. With his history, the fact that Ra's has a _whole entire person_ imprisoned in his goddamn _jar_ is going to be a hurdle Will isn't sure Jason's going to be able to get over.

"We need to talk about this in the hall," Jason says, pushing Jason and Damian back towards the hallway. "No, in the workroom."

"Will—"

"I will explain things when the door is _closed,"_ Will snaps. He isn't explaining things with the proverbial—and literal—door hanging open. "I need you to trust me on this."

Thankfully, they do. They retreat from the jar lid back down the hallway, but it's clear that Jason is full steam ahead towards a breakdown.

"That's a man," he protests. "That's a living, breathing person."

Damian's dead silent, seemingly stunned.

"This doesn't make any sense," Slade says. "At a _minimum_ he's been down there ten years. There's no way someone could be _alive_ that long in such a small space. Not in the dark."

Jason's breath catches, and Slade instinctively reaches over, grabbing Jason's arm.

"Deep breath," he says. "We're going to handle this."

"We need to get him out," Jason chokes.

"Jason," Will says desperately. "I know why this would be upsetting to you—" And he was _already_ upset thanks to the bone dry pit. "—But that isn't just _some man_ sitting there."

"You obviously recognized him," Slade points out.

"Recognized is the wrong word," Will says. It was too far and too dark for him to see much, but he could guess. "Process of elimination. Who's more than a hundred years old, could reasonably be considered a threat by Ra's al Ghul in his prime, and wouldn't die if you left him with nothing in an enclosed space?"

Slade gives him a blank look while Damian focuses on grounding his older brother.

"Vandal Savage," Bruce says. It's clear from his tone that he's looking at the files they were given from Slade's homeworld. "He's immortal, extremely old, and a serious threat. But there's nothing in here about him and Ra's."

"This didn't happen there. It might have almost happened, but it didn't. This is a completely unique happening. Ra's must have managed to capture him somehow and contained him."

"We have to get him out," Jason says desperately. "We can't _leave_ him there. He's—it's—"

"Jason," Slade says firmly. "We're going to get him out."

"Listen, Ra's might have been wrong about everything else, but he wasn't wrong about this," Will says. "Vandal Savage is a serious danger to _everyone."_

"Most people would consider _us_ serious threats to everyone," Slade says.

"Vandal is on a completely different scale," Will says. "You've killed, what, almost triple digits? I've killed more than a thousand people. Vandal Savage is more than fifty thousand years old and he's been killing and conquering for almost that entire goddamn time. He's eternal and immortal and he wants to _conquer the world,_ and depending on which version of his bullshit he's spouting, he might actually be the _biblical Cain, the first man to take a life."_

"We're not leaving him down there," Jason says, and Will wants to tear his hair out.

"I know you're bothered," Will says desperately. "But this box is better left closed."

It's Bruce who cuts in, clearing his throat until everyone goes silent and turns to him.

"Jason," Bruce says. "I think this is... this is going to be your choice. But if what Will says is true, than this man could be a serious threat. If we let him go..." There's a pause, and for a moment Will thinks Bruce is simply delayed before he realizes that Bruce is simply thinking. "Letting him go is the right choice," he says. "But it's the right choice with consequences. Anything he does after this is going to weigh on you."

He's obviously speaking from experience, and there's a weight to his words that comes across even with the distance between them.

"We're getting him out," Jason says.

There's no room for argument. Will knows he's been overruled, and he's not willing to literally fight them over it. Vandal Savage is a menace, and Will can't think of a single time he's actually done anything _good._ Even worse, that was a Vandal Savage who'd been living free. This one has been trapped in a cave for decades, if not centuries, alone and without contact. They'll be lucky if he doesn't try and take someone's throat out, assuming that Vandal's reputation for _man eating_ carries across dimensions.

Getting Vandal out of the pit is a challenge in itself, but one they're well equipped for. They've got a bosun's chair in their supplies, but it takes some doing to set up properly and make sure they have enough rope.

"Should we try and talk to him?" Damian asks. He's still been quiet, and it's obvious he has some _very_ conflicted opinions about his grandfather's choice to keep Savage captive.

"Assuming he even speaks English," Will says. "Or that he speaks at all."

"We should try," Jason says simply. He seems more certain now that the decision is made. It seems to be doing a lot for him to know that he's making a difference. That he's helping.

"Slade," Will says quietly as the boys finish tying off the ropes. "I want you to keep Damian safe. If Vandal goes wild..."

"I'll keep him away," Slade says. "If necessary, we'll throw him right down into that pit." He's not quite on Will's _side,_ but he's more willing to consider it than Jason or Bruce.

Will nods and takes charge of the rescue effort.

They return to the lid of the jar, and Will takes a bit longer to observe the area. The jar is what he expected: thirty or forty feet deep with a narrow bottom and smoothed, rounded sides that make climbing effectively impossible. The way the sides curve in prevent any sort of handhold from helping, but there's obviously damage on the lower half of the jar where Vandal's tried to do just that. But the thick, heavy stone of the natural cave has kept him from getting far, leaving him stranded at the bottom.

"...Vandar," Will calls, standing on the edge as he stares down into the pit. Vandal probably can't see a damn thing, and Will prefers it that way. "Vandar Adg. The first man. The eternal. The immortal."

It's hard to tell if Vandal even understands what the hell he's saying. There seems to be _some_ recognition as he stares up at the light, but it's impossible to know for sure.

"We're here to free you," Will continues. "We'll lower a seat for you and pull you out. After that, we can take you to safety."

He turns his head, nodding to Slade, and he drops down the seat, lowering it rapidly down into the jar. It effectively bumps Vandal on the head—he doesn't make any attempt to move out of the way—and Slade only stops unspooling when Will signals it's hit the bottom.

Vandal doesn't get on it. He turns his head, staring at the seat as if he can't understand what it's for. The more he moves, the better a view Will gets of him, and he's struck by how _small_ he was. Vandal Savage was never a terribly large man—average height by modern standards, although _very_ broad—but the man at the bottom of the pit is just _small._ He's filthy, smeared with dirt and dust, and his hair is matted against his head. His beard is long and ragged, but what's visible of his face seems sunken and unwell.

His regeneration is keeping him alive, but it's not enough to leave him _healthy_ with no input or energy. For all Will knows, his brain's degraded from years down there.

"...We're trying to get you out," Jason calls, tugging the rope to move the seat. "Just get on the seat."

"We're not going down there if he can't get out on his own," Will says. "We'll come back with—"

"We're not leaving him down there," Jason says. In that moment, he's got his father's steel, his words leaving no room for argument.

Will makes an exasperated noise.

"What, do you want me to rappel down there and load him into the seat?" Will asks. "This is dangerous enough as it is."

"We just need to get him into the seat," Jason says. "That's all. This isn't some... big endeavor. We just need to... to get him into the seat."

He makes a noise of frustration. Damian's standing near the door with the tablet, watching them argue as he does.

"...Try a different language," Damian calls.

Will makes an attempt. He repeats his original message in Arabic and then muddles through it in Latin, but there's no response. Will wiggles the rope a bit more, and only _then_ does Vandal move. He shuffles over and, after a bit of moving, finally sits on the seat.

"Oh thank god," Will mutters under his breath. He's frustrated and agitated, but when he starts to haul Vandal up it eases a bit.

He's light. Really light. He's _extremely_ underweight, and pulling him up is painfully easy. Will doesn't even need Slade's help, and with how small Vandal is as he gets closer, Will flips right back to wondering if maybe he wasn't exaggerating the danger.

He sure as hell doesn't _seem_ like a threat as he finally reaches the edge. Will gives one last pull and Vandal topples onto the floor. He's a pathetic, wretched sight. He's somehow even smaller up close, his eyes sunken and his bones visible. He's been starving for years, and Will's heart twists when Jason doesn't hesitate to crouch down, helping Vandal sit upright.

"It's fine," Jason says. "We're going to get you out of the caves. We've got food and water, and we can get you to safety."

Damian's keeping his distance, but he does hand a bottle of water off to Jason. He carefully uncaps it as Vandal stares at it with a wide, confused expression, but he understands clearly enough when Jason demonstrates, taking the bottle with trembling hands and chugging it down like it's the first thing he's drank in centuries.

Will feels ill.

The longer he's with them, the more obvious it becomes that Vandal is, at least for the moment, harmless. He takes the food Jason offers him, and when Jason helps him up he doesn't try and fight it.

But more than just changing what Will thinks about Vandal, watching how Jason handles him changes how he thinks about _Jason._ He's never seen Jason be so careful, so gentle.

It makes it easy to see how Joey could fall in love with Jason.

With Jason helping Vandal walk, they manage to make it back to the entrance without too many issues. Vandal doesn't speak, but occasionally makes quiet noises that don't seem to mean anything.

When they reach the open air, Vandal stumbles, making distressed noises as he covers his eyes with his hands, the light burning his eyes. Jason retreats back into the cave, staying near the edge to let his eyes adjust after so long below.

"We need a plan," Slade says. "An actual plan. We can't expect to carry him with us back to the car—that took us hours, and that was with us all walking nicely."

"Someone's going to have to carry him," Will says. They all know who it's going to be. Slade _could,_ but Will's the strongest of them. Inevitably, it's going to be him doing the carrying, so he doesn't bother pretending like it'll be someone else.

"If you retrace your steps, we can avoid most of the missteps," Bruce says. "I've set up a better route for you, based on how you got there. It shouldn't take as long to leave, at least."

Small mercy.

It takes some prodding (and lots of help from Jason), but eventually Vandal ends up clinging to Will's back. Will hands off his bag to Slade, who handles both easily, and then they start back the way they came. Will wants food and water, but they've given everything but the emergency supplies to their rescue, so all he can do is try and get back to the car as fast as possible.


	57. Chapter 57

It took them four hours to make it to Ra's base, but they manage to make it out in under two. It's simply far easier to get out of the hills than it is to get in, and Bruce's directions cut down their time significantly. By the time they spot the car, Will's almost _used_ to the man riding his back, but the smell is still not something he's going to be forgetting anytime soon.

"Bruce," he says, turning his head to Damian, who's in charge of the tablet. "Can you just get us a room at the closest hotel?"

"Already working on it," Bruce says. "I've called ahead for you and booked you a few rooms. Damian can direct you once you're in the car."

"Food?"

"There's a takeout place next door. I'll call ahead when you're in range."

"Good, order everything," Slade grumbles. "I'm starved."

"I'm going to focus on doing that," Bruce says. "I also need to let Diana know. She asked me to keep her informed about what we found."

"Good, do that," Will says.

It occurs to Will that Vandal has probably never actually seen a car before. He sure as hell acts like it, and makes distressed noises when they load him in. He's too weak to really fight, and Jason manages to calm him enough for them to start driving.

The car's unusually quiet as they make their way to the hotel. Will's happy to be away from the remote countryside, although the city Bruce leads them too isn't that much better. It's a small town at best, and the hotel is more of a modest motel.

"He needs a shower," Will says, nodding towards Vandal. "So do I." He's sure he smells after having Vandal on his back. "He's also going to need some clothes."

"Food first," Jason says. "He's starving."

"He's literally starving, Jason. If you feed him too fast he's just going to vomit it up," Slade says.

Will doesn't know if that's true. He has no idea how Vandal's regeneration is going to work with something like refeeding syndrome, but suspects that they've already passed the limits just with what they've given him.

"Let him eat," Will guesses. "He's not going to die from it, and it might help him recover faster."

He's not sure that's a good thing. Just because Vandal seems harmless right then doesn't mean he's going to _stay_ harmless. Will doesn't think he's faking everything—considering how extreme his condition is, it would take more Willpower than even the greatest of Green Lanterns posses to have kept it together—but that doesn't mean he's _actually_ as regressed as he's acting.

Will goes to get the food and is honestly surprised when Vandal's still in the car when he gets back. He perks up at the smell of the food, and Jason has to pull him back to keep him in his seat. 

The hotel does not look impressed by them, and Slade steps away to smooth out the interaction, no doubt offering to pay whatever extra cleaning fee the room's going to need. Once they're in the room, Will makes an executive decision.

"I'm going to hose him off," Will says, and when Jason shoots him a dirty look, clarifies. "...I'm going to shower him. It's going to be dirty work, I'm already filthy, and I need someone to go buy some clothes to put on him."

Vandal's definitely wearing _something,_ but the material's rotten and torn, only _barely_ passing as clothing. It's not going to hold up to a shower.

"I'll take Damian and pick things up. Scissors and some kind of razor for his hair, for one..." Jason says, eyeing the tangled mess that might have once been a beard.

"Get a bit of everything," Will says.

They eat, with Vandal literally choking down the food as fast as humanly possible. He makes even more of a mess of himself, and Will cringes at the sight of it.

"That's enough," he calls once he's sure that Vandal can't possible fit any more. "I'm going to clean him up."

Vandal doesn't fight Will when Will puts him in the hotel's shower. He seems fascinated by the water, and while Will thinks that a warm bath probably would have been better for a first introduction to modern planning, he's also not willing to risk the mess that would come from it. The shower at least gets most of the filth off rather than letting him stew in it.

A full hour and a half later, Vandal looks like an actual human being rather than a mummified body pulled out of a bog. He's still skin and bones, but his features are actually visible, his beard trimmed down to little more than stubble and his hair trimmed down to nearly a buzzcut to get rid of all the tangles. He stares at himself in the mirror like he doesn't recognize himself, and by the time Will's got him dressed (which feels like far more effort than it should be), Will's exhausted.

But that doesn't stop him from hedging his bets.

"Vandar Adg," he says, dropping his voice. "I want to make this very clear to you. If Ra's al Ghul had his way, you'd have stayed down there forever. You'd have never seen the light of day again. He did that to you because he believed you were going to be a danger to humanity. Whether you prove him right or wrong doesn't matter right now. What _does_ matter is that if not for Jason and his family, you'd have stayed there. Right now, they believe you have the potential to be something more than a constant thorn in their side, and for me, that's neither here nor there.

"You don't know who I am, Vandar Adg, but I know you. I know your real name. I know your titles. I know your deeds. So I want you to believe me when I say that if you harm one hair on the head of anyone in this family, I will make it my life's mission to put you right back in that hole and make absolutely sure no one ever finds you again."

He's said what he needs to. If Vandal understand what he's saying, then message received. If he doesn't, than nothing Will's going to say will make a difference. He plans a hand on Vandal's shoulder and guides him out of the bathroom and into the main room to find everyone else settled around the room.

"Someone needs to be with him at all times," Will says. "Not optional. Regardless of what you're expecting of him, he's too ignorant to modern society right now. He's liable to get himself hurt at a minimum. Slade—"

"I'll keep an eye on him," Slade says. "Go take a shower, Will."

There isn't a shower in the world strong enough to blast the grime off him, but Will tries anyway. He still feels disgusting by the time he emerges, literally trashing the clothes he was wearing over the ikon suit as unsalvageable. When he checks back into the room, he finds that they've actually relocated to the room across the hall, and the hotel staff are in the process of cleaning up the mess they've left.

Jason appears to be walking Vandal through all their names, but Will's more alarmed to see how much Vandal's changed. He looks less... _thin_ than he did before. There's absolutely no way he could have digested the food that fast, and yet he does look ever so slightly less skinny. His best guess is that now that his regeneration no longer has to work to keep him from starving, it can focus on rebuilding and repairing the damage that was left over.

"Diana's on her way here," Slade says when Will enters. "I figure we can rotate off who's keeping an eye out."

Which means he's wary enough not to risk sleeping in the same building as Vandal.

"Is it just Diana?" Jason asks, sitting up.

"She's bringing Dinah," Slade says. "The two of them should be enough."

"Are they talking him with them?" Damian asks.

Slade can only shrug. "We'll see," he says. "It's a developing situation. In the meanwhile, everyone should get to bed, because there's no telling how much rest we're going to get tomorrow."


	58. Chapter 58

Will takes the first watch, and it passes entirely uneventfully. He hands off guard duties to Slade midway through the night, retiring to his own room and letting sleep take him.

He wakes later than intended, speeding through a shower before heading to the largest of the shared rooms.

To his surprise, Vandal is still there, and with a full twelve hours of recovery under his belt, the change is substantial. The man they pulled out of Ra's prison was a skeleton, and while the man in front of him is _thin,_ he's no longer unhealthily so. The only reason he looks as odd to Will as he does is because Will knows what he should look like. His beard and hair's already gained an inch, an amount of hair growth which causes Will to squint.

But it isn't hard to guess why it would be growing so fast. His whole body is effectively running in fast forward, letting him recover faster than a human should be capable of.

He's been given a large spoon and a bowl and is already feeding himself some kind of thick porridge that Jason's provided for him. The fact that he's already managing to feed himself is notable in itself, and sends Will mentally through another brief spiral of indecision. He's still not sure they made the right choice. He can't figure out if Vandal's faking it, or if he's being genuine. There's so much uncertainty, and it's only Slade speaking up that drags him out of it.

"Diana and Dinah just landed. Bruce is asleep, so we're going to be coordinating between our two groups to meet up. Realistically, Vandal will be leaving with them so that Diana can handle all the paperwork and make sure there won't be any issues."

"We're going to be visiting the King," Damian says. "He asked for an update when we knew what it was, and it's important not to damage diplomatic relationships."

"Then home?" Will asks. He wants to be home, but the fact that Joey and Thad aren't going to be there feels like a weight around his neck.

"Then home," Slade confirms.

Vandal shows no sign of awareness that he's being spoken about, but does eat the bites of toast Jason provides for him. The man's practically a black hole, eating anything offered him without complaint, and Will wonders yet again as to what the hell he's thinking.

Assuming he's thinking at all. It's entirely possible his brain is still rebooting, operating on a more instinctual level than brains normally do. _Survival mode_ taken to an impossible extreme.

Will gets a chance to taste some of the porridge for himself, finding it more flavorful than he expected. Everything they have with them fits in two small bags, so leaving the hotel seems like an easy prospect... right until they get to the car.

The smell is _awful._

"We are not getting back in there," Jason says. "Absolutely not." He closes the door immediately, backing up from the car and looking at it like it's the dead body it smells like.

"...I'll call someone," Slade sighs.

An hour later they have a new car, and the old one's being towed for a proper cleaning. Will's wondering how much he's going to have to apologize to the king as they cram into the new car, a tight fit with Vandal in the back seat between the boys. While Will hasn't entirely given up on the fact that he might be hiding, he _does_ trust that Vandal's smart enough not to randomly attack. He knows better. If he was going to pull something, he'd have done it the night before, when he only had one person to fight and unknown, unfamiliar ground for all of them.

They end up directed to another hotel, although the new one they're directed to is much larger, newer, and up to date. It's a modern hotel that wouldn't look out of place in any European capital, and they spot Steve Trevor waiting near the entrance as they pull up. He looks at Vandal with obvious interest, and Vandal stares back in apparent confusion, but Slade doesn't allow any questions as he gestures for Steve to lead the way.

There's a conference room already set up, but it's Diana and Dinah.

"No video conference?" Will asks as they enter.

"It's three in the morning on the east coast," Dinah says. "Midnight on the west. Everyone's either asleep or doing normal patrols, so we're going to handle this with the three of us. I assume you can speak for Bruce?"

"We spoke about it, yeah," Slade confirms. Jason reaches out, nudging Vandal into a seat, and everyone else starts to grab their own seats.

Diana seems to have her eyebrows permanently raised as she stares at Vandal, as if expecting an explanation of some sort. Will doesn't even know what to tell them, so he lets Slade handle it.

 _Technically_ he's not even a member of the League. Everyone else is, and they've all got their little cards, but membership has never officially been slapped on him, probably because the entire world knows that he's a dimensionally-displaced mercenary and that might look _bad._

Even if he did fight a Kryptonian and win.

"We were investigating a set of coordinates originally sourced from Ra's al Ghul," Slade says, his voice largely emotionless as he gets down to business. "About three hours from here as the crow flies there's a gulch in the middle of absolutely nowhere. At the bottom of the gulch was a flagstone which lead to a series of—"

"Slade," Diana says, exasperated. "We all know you can explain better than this."

"Let me," Jason says, standing up. "The coordinates directed us to a former League of Assassin's base. There was a Lazarus pit, but it had run dry a long time ago. The base was small, and had been completely emptied out. However, at the far end of the base was a sealed door that claimed to contain a _great evil_ which was better left sealed."

"Which you immediately opened," Dinah says. She sounds amused by the whole thing, and Will can't blame her.

"Which we immediately opened," Jason confirms. "Considering Ra's, it was entirely possible that he was outright lying about there being any danger at all. It was also possible that there _was_ a serious danger, but if that was true it was important that the League know about it."

"And you found... him?" Diana asks, gesturing to Vandal. Jason's provided him a bit of jerky to chew on, but he does stop to look up when everyone's attention turns to him.

"Will?" Jason asks, turning to him. "Can you... provide some context?"

"Vandal Savage," Will says. He doesn't bother to stand. "He's at least ten thousand years old. Most estimates put that closer to sixty thousand. He predates humanity, either way. In my world he's a heavy-class super-villain who regularly goes toe to toe with people like Clark. His generally stated goal is world domination, and depending on which version he's telling you, he either _is_ or _advised_ basically every tyrant in history."

"How is he still alive?" Dinah asks, baffled.

"Killing him is nearly impossible," Will says, and Damian jumps in to clarify.

"Grandfather would have killed him if it was possible. He had a strong stance of not allowing threats to live. The fact that he opted to imprison him means he was unable to find a way to take his life."

"What do we know about his imprisonment?" Diana asks. Her eyebrows are scrunched together, her face pinched in focus.

"Ra's called it a jar, which isn't an unfair description. Deep enough he couldn't climb out, with rounded walls that sloped inward to discourage climbing. Barely enough space to move, and no real room to do anything else, either. We're not sure how long he was down there, but I'd estimate... I don't know. A long, long time."

"The construction was at least a hundred years old," Will says. "But it was probably a lot older than that. Considering there was a pit there, it's possible the original construction was made in the goddamned dark ages, and he simply retrofitted it as a prison when he had a need."

"Entirely possible," Jason agrees. "We simply don't know. The only way we're ever going to know is when he starts talking."

He nods his head towards Vandal, who's gone right back to chewing on his jerky, seeming to ignore the conversation.

"I assumed he would be... in a worse state," Diana admits.

"He was," Will says. "He was a skeleton with skin. His regeneration was keeping him alive, but in a complete absence of any sort of nutrition, he was constantly on the verge of death. He's gaining weight at an extremely fast rate, and I imagine you'll see him bulk out as he eats more."

"Mentally?" Diana asks.

Will glances to Jason, who shrugs.

"It's impossible to say," he says. "He definitely seems to understand some things. He does well with hand signs?"

"I think he might know Arabic," Damian says. "I talked to him in it a bit. He didn't speak back, but he seemed a bit more like he understood what i was saying than when I spoke in English."

"There's a lot of unknowns," Diana confirms. "Dinah and I will return to the states with him. J'onn might be able to establish communication with him, or at least confirm if it's a language barrier."

"He needs to be watched," Will says. They can both take care of themselves, but if Vandal decides to take advantage of their trust... It could end very badly.

"Elaborate?" Diana asks. Her tone's changed, and she suddenly seems far more severe than she did earlier.

"He was a super-villain," Will points out. A part of him is still struggling with the fact that none of them seem to be taking the threat particularly seriously. "He could kill a lot of people if he escapes."

"There's no _escaping,"_ Diana says, "because he's not under arrest."

Will makes a strangled noise of distress, but Diana doesn't give him room to argue.

"We don't punish people for the things their counterparts have done. We don't make snap judgments based on _assumed_ similarities between dimensions. We have no idea if this Vandal Savage is guilty of any of the things _your_ Vandal Savage was, and even if we did, we'd have no way of proving it. What we do know is that he hasn't done anything wrong for decades, and that means, until proven otherwise, he's going to be treated like a victim in this."

"A _victim?"_ Will splutters.

"What he went through was cruel and unusual even by the standards of Ra's al Ghul. There's not a person in the world who wouldn't think of what happened to him as a victim of torture, Will. Inhumane, horrible torture."

"He—"

"This isn't negotiable," Diana says, raising her voice. "He's broken no laws. He's suffered more than enough. So we help him recover. Will, you of _all_ people should understand the importance of second chances."

Will clenches his jaw so hard he hears his teeth crack.

"We aren't the same," Will says. "For me it was a _job._ For him it's a _way of life._ It's only a matter of time before he shows his true colors."

"That won't make you right," Diana says simply. "Even if he _does_ turn against us—even if he becomes the greatest threat we face—this would still be the right way."

It doesn't make any sense to Will. He doesn't _get_ it. He's a threat to everyone. Vandal going free could put his entire family at risk.

"It's the right thing to do because we're supposed to be better than that," Jason says. "It's part of what lets us know that we're making the right choice... the fact that we do things like this. That we show compassion to people who might be enemies. That we're willing to offer a second chance to someone who might not deserve it. Just look at the people we surround ourselves with. Not just Slade and you, but people like Ivy. People like Nygma."

 _People like Bane_ goes unspoken.

"We can stand tall as part of the League _because_ we make these choices. Even if you think it's stupid. If he breaks the law, then he'll be handled the legal way. He won't be thrown into a pit and left to rot. Never."

There's a hard edge to Jason's words. It's a line in the sand, a line he won't ever let himself cross.

He's just like his father, only Bruce's principles were based on hypotheticals, while Jason's principles were founded in blood.

"Will," Slade says quietly. "We can talk about this after. But it's obviously stressful right now, so..."

"I'm going to take a walk," Will says. He's having a hard time putting his finger on just what about the situation agitates him so much, but in the end he's fairly sure it comes right back to one of his first thought when he saw Vandal.

Will is confident in his ability to protect the people around him. He knows he can keep them safe.

Or he _was._ But Vandal Savage is a great big unknown, a conniving bastard who might very well pose a threat, and Will doesn't have any way to protect them. He doesn't have a sure fire way to keep them _safe,_ and the fact that Jason keeps letting himself get so goddamn close feels like it's scraping at the inside of Will's skull.

He stands from the table, leaving the discussion behind. Jason looks frustrated, but Damian's staring at him looking distressed. Will doesn't want to look at them right then. He hates the idea of leaving Vandal there, but it's not as if the League can't be trusted to handle him.

And more than anything else, he desperately need to be away from the room.


	59. Chapter 59

Will doesn't bother to pretend to be surprised when Slade comes to find him. There's a small park not far from the hotel that Will's found, and it's there that Slade finds him sitting on one of the park benches. He settles in beside him and makes a small noise that Will can't place, and it's only once they've sat together for a few minutes that Slade finally speaks.

"I know why you're frustrated."

"Oh, do you now?" Will says, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.

"You don't like giving up control," Slade says, apparently unbothered by the anger. "Feeling like things are out of your control is frustrating."

It's true, but that doesn't make it easy to admit. It doesn't make things better, either: the situation remains as it is.

"He's going to escape," Will says. "Maybe not right now. But sometime. At some point he's going to vanish. They should be sticking a GPS tracker on his leg before they so much as turn their head."

"He's not a dog," Slade says. "He's not a prisoner, either. I know you're frustrated, but the League more than anyone has to walk a very fine line as far as the law is concerned. The League only intervenes in serious cases, and in exchange the government looks the other way. We do as well as we do because we've earned a mountain of goodwill, but if we overstep those boundaries... we might lose it."

"This is why I'm not on the League," Will grumbles. He folds his hands together, sinking his chin down to rest against the back of his palms. "I can't stand the idea of playing politics like that for so long."

"You get used to it," Slade says. "You're better equipped for it than I am, anyway. You did just fine with the King here, and you certainly managed with Vandal."

"That wasn't managing. That was... a job." That's what he'd treated it like, anyway.

"I know," Slade says. "But you still did just fine. I know you want to be back at the manor, and I know you want your boys back from the trip, but... let yourself rest, alright? Part of the reason this all works is because we're willing to trust each other. Diana isn't going to just let him go wandering free. Legally she might not be able to do anything, but you can count on her to keep a close eye on things."

"He's going to—"

"I know." Slade's hand slips over, resting ever so lightly on Will's knee, and Will spares a quick glance around to make sure no one's watching.

"You shouldn't," Will reminds him. "Someone could see."

"We're a thousand miles from anyone who knows us," Slade says. "And no one's paying attention."

He leans over, pressing a kiss to Will's temple, and Will lets out a huff of frustration. They're going to put themselves at risk doing things like this, but that doesn't stop it from feeling comforting anyway.

"Diana is going to take Vandal with her. J'onn can tell us how together he actually is. We can work from there." There's a pause. "Are you still up for talking with the king?"

"I can manage," Will says. He can. It's not like it's some great impossible task. He can make do, one way or another.

By the time they return to the hotel, everyone's already getting ready to go. Vandal's just standing there, apparently making no move to escape or leave, and seems to be getting along with Diana, who speaks to him in a soft, quiet voice that Will wants to associate with animals. He half expects Vandal to insist on staying with Jason, who's been his most obvious protector, but he doesn't, allowing himself to be lead away by the League.

For that matter, he half expects _Jason_ to be hesitant about leaving him, but if anything he seems relieved. The whole thing has clearly been emotionally taxing for him, and he's obviously ready to go home by the time they head for the castle.

There's no banquet or meal waiting for them when they get there, although they are offered drinks as they're guided into the king's study. It's not quite formal, but it's certainly more focused on the actual mission than their earlier get together was, and Will hands off a lot of the explanation to Slade, letting him go over what they've found.

Tara isn't there, and Will isn't sure if he should ask about her. In the end, he opts not to, preferring to check in on her remotely. Eventually, she'll be announced to the country, and he's sure there's going to be plenty of Markovian gossip for him to keep up with if he wants.

The risk that someone might find the base is minimal, and outside the risk of someone falling there isn't much danger. But Brion is intent on ensuring his people's safety, so they feed him coordinates to deal with.

"I'll take a helicopter," he says. "Flying overhead should get me close enough to at least seal the entrance so that no one will ever accidentally stumble upon it."

"And it'll keep your guards from pitching a fit because you tried to march over the hills," Slade says, looking amused.

"They'll do that anyway," Brion says with a laugh. "I play too fast and loose with my own health for any of them to be happy with me. My parents were far more subdued."

"I can imagine," Slade says, and Brion smiles at that.

Will does catch a glimpse of Tara as they leave. She doesn't come down to say goodbye the way her overly grateful brother does, but she does stand up on the second floor balcony looking down at the entrance way as they're seen out of the palace. Will knows her, but to her he's effectively a stranger, so he can hardly blame her for it.

It's past noon by the time they make it to the airport, and as they board Slade does what he can to ease Will's concerns.

"He was on the plane when they took off," Slade says before tucking his phone away. "So there's that."

The plane feels like an obvious place to attack, but the fact that Diana's going to have her eye on him eases Will's worries. There's food on the plane to distract them, and by the time they're properly in the air Will's content to ignore the problem. There's nothing he can do to actually change things. The die have been cast, and all he can do is deal with any possible consequences when they land.

Slade takes the seat beside him, pulling up the center armrest and leaning against him.

"The pilot—"

"You worry too much," Slade says. "There's only cameras back here for emergencies, and if an emergency has to happen they'll have better things to worry about than whether or not we had the armrest up. If anyone asks, I was just showing you something on my tablet."

Will tries not to stress about it. The secrecy is for Slade and Bruce's sake, and nothing good is going to come from him constantly worrying about it on their behalf.

Jason and Damian are similarly curled together, only they actually _do_ have a tablet between them, watching a movie to distract themselves. Jason's agitation is still there, even if it's calmed down, but it's obvious to Will that Damian's presence is helping a great deal.

"Why don't we make that official," Slade says, bending down to retrieve his tablet from his bag. "I've got a show backlog if you want to help me catch up on it."

Will doesn't really care what they watch, but he supposes that Slade probably has good taste anyway. He sets up the tablet, pulling a second headset out for Will, and then leans against him, resting the tablet on both of their legs.

It's going to be a long flight.


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains sexual content.

It's a clear sign of how well Slade knows his particular points of stress that, as the flight nears it's end, he leans closer to let Will know that Diana and co are on the ground without incident. It eases the worst of Will's concerns and lets him focus on doing what he needs to right then, unloading the plane once it's landed with the gear they brought.

Bruce is waiting for them, pulling both of his boys into a hug before guiding them back towards the waiting car. Slade drives the other one, and Will slides in with him.

It's just after eight in the evening, but it feels considerably later. Will's sure Jason and Damian are both going to be jet lagged to hell and back again, but there's very little that can be done about it. They just need to stay up until their normal bedtime and sleep their way through it.

The manor hasn't changed much in the time they've been gone. It's been less than forty-eight hours, and while construction is still proceeding, there's precious little for Bruce to fill them in on.

"I'm going to call Hudson," Jason says once they've made it back. "I figure he can probably come out tomorrow."

"Considering the circumstances, I'm sure he'll make time," Bruce says. The concern is written on his face, and Will isn't surprised when he reaches out, resting a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"You made the right choice, Jason. You made the only choice you could have... the only one you'd have been able to live with yourself having made. I know I still don't say this enough, but I'm proud of you, alright?"

He doesn't give Jason a chance to answer, pulling him into a hug before he could even think up a response.

There's already food waiting for them, which Bruce helpfully reheats for them, and Will has to admit he's happy to be back. He wants to cook. He wants things to go back to normal.

More than anything, he wants his kids back.

"J'onn just got a chance to... _interact_ with Vandal," Bruce helpfully informs them as they finish eating. "He says that Vandal is at least understanding what they're talking about, but that he shows signs of reduced function. He doesn't believe that Vandal is operating at his full capacity at the moment."

Will can't decide if that's a good thing or not. It does reduce the likelihood that everything that's happened since his rescue was part of some conniving plan, but that doesn't rule out him betraying them later, either.

"Is there any sign of Luthor?" Damian asks. He's got Portia in his arms and Titus sitting on his feet, both acting like he couldn't leave if he wanted to.

"No," Bruce says. Will didn't expect there to be. Luthor's going to pop up when he has a _plan,_ and not a second before. He's not the kind of idiot who'd let himself get spotted while on the run.

"While I'm sure you're all rather interested in discussing misters Savage and Luthor, might I instead recommend a moratorium on work in favor of spending some time together as a family? It has been a very stressful weekend for many of us," Alfred says.

Inevitably, that means movie night. With no main living room to spend time in, they end up sprawled out on the couches in the small living room off Slade and Bruce's room.

"Jason and I are going to have a sleepover," Damian says helpfully. "Since it's just me down that wing without Thad, and it's just him in his apartment without Joey..."

"I think it's a good idea," Bruce says. "I know the house is still new for all of us, and it might take some time to adjust. It's also very... quiet."

"I'm getting a white noise generator," Jason says. "Joey had one on his phone we used when we were in the hotel, and it helped me sleep."

Will can imagine about ten million reasons why Jason would sleep easier with some white noise, and he isn't going to say a single one of them.

"Maybe I should invest in one too," Bruce says, and Slade laughs at that.

"I think I generate enough white noise for you," Slade says, throwing an arm loosely around his shoulders. "But we can get one if you want."

Will feels the absence of Thad and Joey even more as the family winds down. It feels like someone's carved a piece of him away and the wound's only just started to bleed. When Alfred excuses himself, Will stands to leave, and Bruce reaches up, catching his wrist.

"Stay?"

"It's not what you're thinking," Slade says from where he's reclined on the couch. "He literally just means sleeping together."

"It's relaxing," Bruce says, obviously trying not to huff in Slade's direction. "Sleeping with someone beside me just... makes sleeping easier."

"I'll need to get my stuff," Will points out, and Slade laughs at that.

"Just sleep in your underwear. It's warm enough with the two of us, you'll be just fine with the three."

Will goes downstairs anyway. He wants to clean himself up, making sure he's presentable even if Slade's all but said he isn't going to be getting laid that night. He'd like a half decent first impression, and that means making sure his teeth are brushed and his beard trimmed.

The fact that it's the smart thing to do doesn't change the fact that Slade looks deeply amused when he finally joins them in the bedroom. Slade's in underwear while Bruce has pajama pants, and it feels almost intimidating to cross the room and join them on the rest of the bed.

"You're tense," Bruce points out. "Lie down."

When Will goes to do just that, Slade stops him.

"Belly down."

It feels a bit like he's climbing into the mouth of a dragon as he sprawls out on his belly in the middle of the bed, and when Bruce straddles his hips Will can't figure out what the hell his brain is doing. He's not sure how he's supposed to process it. Considering Slade's implication that it's _just sleeping,_ the fact that Bruce is straddling him doesn't exactly fit.

And then Bruce's thumbs dig into the tight muscles of his back and Will makes an undignified whimper.

"Bruce," Slade explains, "is very nearly a licensed massage therapist. His hands are magic."

Slade's reclined down beside them, watching the interaction as Bruce starts to rub slow circles across Will's shoulder blades. It's not the first time he's gotten a massage, but it is the first time he's gotten one with someone sitting on his back, and the feeling of Bruce ever so slowly working his way down is... something. Definitely something. No matter how _absolutely non-sexual_ it was intended to be, Will can feel himself hardening and ends up burying his face in the pillow. He can feel someone moving around behind him and surmises it must be Slade, because Bruce is still working away at his back. He's pushing hard enough it almost hurts, working knots out of Bruce's back, and the feeling is...

Definitely something, for sure. Will doesn't know if it's right to call it pleasurable, but it doesn't exactly hurt, either.

He's firmly distracted from Bruce's massage by the feeling of Slade's fingers running across his ass, and he makes a small noise of distress, tilting his head up.

"This is an ambush," he hisses.

"For the record, I didn't know he was going to do whatever it is he's doing," Bruce says. "But I'm not going to let that stop me."

Slade's hands run across his buttocks and down his thighs, and when they come back up and pull Will's pajamas down with them, he can't even say he's surprised.

No _wonder_ Slade said he should just stay in his underwear. Bruce might be an innocent party in the whole thing, but Slade certainly isn't.

The combined assault of Bruce's firm hands on his back and Slade's soft touches running across his bare skin is enough make him bury his face again. It's overwhelming, and he feels a lump caught in his throat as he tries desperately to keep himself under control. He's rock hard, and when Slade's fingers ever so slightly trail across his exposed cock he only just manages to contain a whine.

"Just relax," Bruce says quietly. He's pushing hard enough that Will suspects he'd bruise if he were anyone else, but then Bruce _is_ used to dealing with people who have regeneration. He can't tell if it's intentional or not, but Bruce's firm touches are almost exactly mirrored by Slade's soft strokes, and when Will goes slipping over the edge a few minutes later, Bruce winds the massage down as well.

Will feels absolutely boneless. He's sure Slade's being a smug asshole about the whole thing, probably smirking up a storm behind him, but right then all he can feel is a pleasant floaty afterglow.

"Special service," Slade says, and Will can _hear_ the smirk in his voice. "Won't get this anywhere else."

Will doesn't bother to argue how wrong Slade is. He doesn't have any energy left. It takes all he has just to eventually roll out of bed and clean himself up, even if Slade's already done most of the work for him. By the time he joins them in bed, he's no longer surprised when they pull him into the middle, Slade's arm draping over his waist from behind as Bruce's arm drapes over him from the front.

Bruce's right, though; Sleeping together like that _does_ make sleeping easier, and Will ends up drifting off not long after he joins them in bed, tangled in their arms, forgetting all the stress of the day.


	61. Chapter 61

Will wakes with his face buried against Bruce's chest, and it takes him a nice long second to understand both where he is and what he's doing. Slade's already out of bed, but Bruce is out cold, his chest slowly rising and falling as Will pulls away. Slade's in the bathroom when Will goes to leave, flagging him down for a small, overly chaste kiss, and then Will leaves, returning to his room to shower and change.

He knows better than to get near a shower with Slade nearby.

He makes breakfast for those who are still there, and rather than eating in two waves they simply all eat together. The Kents are doing just fine, although it's clear they miss having a pack of grandchildren running around, and they seem genuinely pleased that Will (and his cooking) have come back so quickly.

"Any word on Vandal?" Jason asks on their way back to the house. It's Sunday, but there's nothing actually scheduled for them to do right then.

"The situation is the same as last night," Bruce says, his eyes slipping over to Will. Will feels... relaxed. He's reconciled things in his head, and that's _greatly_ reduced his stress.

It's not Bruce that calls him out on it though: it's Slade.

"You seem fine with this."

"All signs indicate that Vandal was at least partially genuine in his behavior, meaning he needs time to adjust. He's smart—one of the smartest—and he'll take advantage of that position. Right now he has nothing to lose and everything to gain by staying with the League. They'll give him identification, help catch him up to speed on the situation, and be content where he is."

"And then he'll run?" Damian guesses.

"Maybe," Will says. He's no longer as certain of that as he once was. "Or maybe he'll stay and decide to work from within the system. The type of combat he's used to are long behind him. The other Vandal had time to adjust over the years, but this one has gone from what was probably a medieval mindset to a modern one. Maybe the change will be a good one for him."

"You mean you're hoping he might become a cutthroat businessman rather than a cutthroat," Jason says, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

"That sounds about right," Will says. "Not going to try and argue anything else, anyway."

They're nearby back to the house when Damian pulls Bruce aside, waving the rest of them in. It's strange, but not entirely out of character, and everyone leaves them behind without too much protest.

Will doesn't get to find out what it is Damian wanted to talk about until the next day. Bruce leaves early in the morning, and when he returns he looks so intense that it's obvious that whatever it is he's going to say is going to be important. But he largely brushes past the family, excusing himself to talk to Jason in private.

"This is killing me," Will grumbles to Slade.

"How do you think I feel?" He replies. "It's not as if Bruce has looped me in on this either."

Mercifully, they don't have to wait that much longer. Bruce joins them in the lounge area of the third floor after leaving Jason be, and settles in beside Will looking tired but happy.

"What are we missing?" Slade asks, quirking a brow.

"Damian felt bad that Jason had so obviously gotten his hopes up for a pit," Bruce explains. "Even with therapy, there's no denying that his scars weigh on him, and the pit would have resolved that at comparatively little risk."

"In his mind," Will mutters.

"In his mind," Bruce confirms. "I'm not sure I'd have taken the risk, but it wouldn't have been my choice to make. What matters is that we _did_ have a small vial of pit fluid. Enough to analyze, and not much else. Damian pointed out that since the fluid was given to _him,_ it was technically his by rights, and he'd like to give a part of it to Jason, so that he could at least get rid of the... what remains of the brand scar."

"The what?" Will asks, confused. It's the first he's heard of it, and the way Bruce's expression pinches tells him that it's nothing good.

Well, even more than the words _brand scar_ normally do.

Slade drops his voice and explains.

"One of the things the clown did to him was brand him with a J on his cheek. He had it removed by the best surgeon available, but there's still a little line that shows where it once was."

Will's seen the scar. He always assumed it was simply a cut, unable to recognize the significance of it.

"So he's... what, using the pit fluid now?"

"Just a bit," Bruce confirms. "We kept some of it for study, but we could spare a few drops. He shouldn't need much for such a thin scar, and we have no reason to believe he's going to have any sort of side effects from it."

Will runs back through what he knows about the pit and has to agree. A small splash isn't going to do much, especially not if it's only being used once.

"Try not to draw attention to it," Slade suggests. "But at the same time, don't be surprised if he's... happier than he was."

Slade isn't kidding. Jason's practically floating on a cloud for the next few days, his good mood infectious. He ends up taking Damian up to see Batcow the next day, and Will opts to spend his time more productively.

"You're still doing that?" Slade asks when Will brings up his nursing exam.

"I already did all the work," Will points out. "It's two days and I'll have a nice piece of paper confirming I did it. This is just the test."

"Tomorrow?" Bruce asks. "Just the one day?"

"Wednesday and Thursday," Will says. "Two days, then I'll be back."

"Why do I get the feeling this won't be very hard for you?" Jason asks.

"Because it won't," Damian says simply. He's not as full of energy as his brother is, but he's certainly still in a good mood. "Will has been studying for this test for months. He is over prepared, if anything."

"You're giving me too much credit," Will says with a snort. "I read the textbook once, went over the course material once, and called it a day."

"As I said, over prepared."

Will lets Eiko know he'll be gone and packs what he needs. It isn't much: he's got a hotel booked up near the test center, but it's not as if he has much spare time lying around. He tries not to make a big deal of it when he goes, considering he's only a few hours away, and leaves early enough in the morning that he only catches Bruce—getting ready to leave for work himself—who gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Kitchen might be ready when you get back," Bruce says with a smile.

"Best gift I could have asked for."

The hotel is nice and the exam goes well, but the experience isn't pleasant. Will is used to travelling alone. He's used to staying at hotels alone. He's used to going about his business like he's the only person on Earth who matters.

But he can't anymore. Being alone in the hotel makes him feel unbearably isolated, and the fact that the two people he cares about most in the world are millions of light years away feels like a physical weight on him. He doesn't do as well the second day—still passing with flying colors—and he's happy to get home at the first opportunity.


	62. Chapter 62

It doesn't particularly come as a surprise to Will when, over breakfast on Friday morning, Jason announces that he wants to go back to being Batman.

"Well, not particularly Batman," he clarifies. "But... I think you all know what I mean."

"You mean back to being a superhero," Will says, and Bruce makes a face. The term _superhero_ has never quite caught on the way it did back home, and Will can imagine why.

"More or less. I love... I love the work I did—the work I _do_ with Wayne Outreach. I still think it's important. But Michael's doing an amazing job as acting CEO, and after everything that happened with Vandal, I thought I... I thought I might like to go back to that."

Will's sort of expecting Bruce to argue the point. After all, he's the one with most to lose. While it's never been _said,_ Will knows (and he's sure everyone else does) that Bruce was hoping Jason would take over as the CEO for Wayne Enterprises.

But he doesn't.

"I'll talk to Diana," he says instead.

Apparently Will isn't the only one surprised, because Jason's mouth drops open ever so slightly.

"Really?" He asks. "Just like that?"

"It's not like you're too young," Bruce says. "You're qualified in every way that matters. It's also obviously something you enjoy and feel passionate about. There are some legal considerations to be made, but we can handle that with ARGUS's help." He pauses, looking Jason over. "...And if you want, you can certainly be Batman. You have as much right to the title as I do."

"I'll think about it," Jason says. "I mean, I guess I don't _need_ a title considering everyone knows who I am, but civilians talking about how they're safe because _Jason_ is here doesn't have quite the same ring to it."

"Batman Junior," Slade says, and Jason elbows him in the side.

"You could always go back to being Raptor," Damian points out. "Although an entirely new name might be a good choice. A new identity for a member of the League, rather than a promotion under one of your old ones."

"You've got time to think about it," Bruce says. "Nothing's going to happen until the League's had a chance to talk about it, and realistically that isn't going to happen until Clark gets back."

Hopefully the next day, but Will doesn't have a lot of hope. Probably the boys are going to want to drag the trip out as long as humanly possible.

"But I'll bring it up when he gets here," Bruce adds. "Since Hal will be in the area anyway."

"Thanks," Jason says, giving Bruce a quick grin. "Guess I should start shopping names around, right?"

Will gets his results Friday afternoon, but to the surprise of absolutely no one, he graduates top of the class.

"Apparently I get an award," Will says, reading over the email casually. "They're offering help with placement, too."

"You're not _actually_ going to practice, are you?" Slade asks, squinting at him. "I assumed it was mostly you proving you could do it."

"And making sure I can provide half decent first aid if needed," Will points out.

"He'd have been lucky to manage a cut successfully when he was with the Titans," Damian says. He seems distracted, but Will's largely given up on keeping track of the moods of the various boys. They seem to have issues and get over them at surprising speed, and they have whole lives he's mostly ignorant to. He _does_ suppose that he's technically going to be more formally a part of their family, but... well, he doubts things are going to change that much.

He already has a good relationship with Bruce and Slade's kids, and they have a good relationship with his. It's simply not one that involves Will being heavily involved in their social lives.

"Well, now I'm a nurse," Will says with a wave of his hand. "Perfectly qualified to stitch your injuries back together like it's my job."

Because it could be.

He doesn't wait to get invited up to Bruce and Slade's room that night. Instead, he makes himself right at home before they even go to bed, burrowing into the blankets and letting them find him already ready to sleep.

"Wow," Slade says, obviously amused when they find him. Bruce is more thoughtful, reaching down to run his fingers through Slade's hair.

"Missed us that much?"

"Left for one day and now he's pining," Slade says, but the teasing doesn't stop him from wrapping an arm around Will's middle and pulling him closer. "Knows how good he has it now, so he's not willing to give it up."

Will has to admit it's a good way of putting it, so he lets the teasing stand as spoken. He winds up pinned between the two of them again, a tangle of limbs that makes him feel warm and _content._

He wants to stay there. He wants to know that there are people around him who _want_ to be around him.

"You're welcome to join us any time you want, alright?" Bruce says, pressing a kiss to Will's forehead.

"No promises it won't be _in use,"_ Slade says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "But you're still more than welcome to join in those cases as well..."

Despite the innuendo, neither of them pushes it, and for once, Will doesn't quite feel up for it. He just wants the physical affection—sex doesn't seem that important right then.

The kitchen's finished enough to do some basic cooking in, but Will ends up cooking over at the Kents anyway. He doesn't like the idea of just leaving them by themselves, and it just seems easier to cook in their kitchen and feed everyone at once.

They're literally in the middle of the meal when Bruce and Slade's phones both go off, followed a moment later by the chirp of the Kents house alarm.

"...Please tell me that's Clark," Martha says, her eyes instinctively going up to the ceiling.

Will hopes it is too, even if they are a day early.


	63. Chapter 63

They scatter onto the lawn with cautious optimism, but the appearance of familiar green above them is enough for them to relax. Hal—and John Stewart, by the looks of it—are ferrying the rest of their passengers down in what looks like a Lantern construct school bus, which lands not far from the Kent house.

The bus door opens and Will's just fast enough to intercept the speedster that comes flying at him. Thad's so fast he nearly misses, but he _does_ manage to keep him from colliding too hard.

"Dad!"

Will forgets what he was doing. Whatever thoughts he had go right out the window as Thad buries his face against Will's shoulder, pulling him into a too-tight hug. Will returns the gesture, burying his face in Thad's shoulder, and only looks up when he feels another set of arms wrapping around him.

"Joey," Will says quietly, leaning his head over to let Joey in.

He can see the Kent's disembarking, and Bruce is already heading towards the Lantern's to make sure Hal doesn't take off too quickly. There's a lot to catch up on, but Will's equally surprised by the fact that Era's there... and that Kara isn't.

"We should move inside," Clark says, herding his pack of children towards the house. "We've got a _lot_ to catch you up on."

"No danger?" Slade asks as everyone starts towards the house.

"No danger," Clark confirms. "A lot happened, but... we've moved past it."

Will suspects he's not going to like what he has to hear.

Everyone settles into the Kent's living room to get caught up, and Will's happy to end up sandwiched between his boys. Thad's _extra_ affectionate, and every extra moment of snuggling convinces Will that he's going to be _angry_ when he hears what happened.

"We got to Kandor as originally planned," Clark says, "and we got to meet Kara there. She had Lor-Zod with her, who had been entrusted into her care on Oa by the guardians. While technically as guilty as the rest of Zod's men, the fact that he was a child wasn't overlooked. Because Kara could be trusted to handle him after some... adjustment, she was put in charge of him."

"What about the rest of Zod's men?" Will asks.

"Staying on Oa," Hal explains. "Ideally we'd like to hand them over to Kandor eventually, but things are simply too unstable for that right now. So they'll stay in the sciencells for now."

It sounds like the best solution available to Will, and apparently everyone else agrees, because no one bothers to argue. He supposes it's possible that someone else who was on Kandor might have at the time, but the moment's clearly passed.

"Where _is_ Kara?" Bruce asks.

"Well, that's skipping ahead a bit, but Kara chose to stay on Kandor. While there we met... ah, her. The her from this dimension and her parents. This dimension's Kara was on Kandor when it was taken, which is why we don't have a Supergirl or any equivalent."

Clark doesn't elaborate further, but he doesn't need to. Reunited with her parents, even if they _are_ from another dimension was probably the best case scenario for the Kara they'd rescued.

"There were some cultural differences with Kandor," Lois says dryly. She looks less than enthusiastic.

"To say the least," Clark admits with a huff. "The Kandorians were... very... ah, single-minded. They were welcoming, don't misunderstand, but they..."

"You know when you go to the zoo and think the animals are really neat?" Ore says. "It was like that."

"For them, meeting us was the first non-Kryptonian life they'd encountered. Having a small army of hybrids in addition to the humans were brought was of great interest to their science guild. They were also interested in Thad's origins..."

"They tried to decommission Era," Thad blabs. Clark winces, and Will's eyes narrow, scowling at no one in particular.

"They correctly surmised what Era had once been and attempted to... ah, decommission him. Obviously we stepped in and put a stop to that, but it was a point of contention to start."

"We had to convince them he wasn't a danger to Earth," John explains. "The Lanterns took responsibility for him, which seemed to calm them down."

"They seem to respect Lantern authority, which was a nice perk," Hal adds.

"The _only_ perk," John says.

"It was not a matter of concern," Era says. He doesn't appear to have changed much in the week and a half he's been gone, his demeanor and manner of speaking nearly identical. "I was not harmed, nor was any other member of our party."

"Aside from that, we had a lot of catching up to do," Clark says. "Obviously we had to fill them in with everything that had happened since they'd been shrunk, and explain what had lead to them being returned to normal size."

"They _were_ very apologetic about what had happened with Zod," Lois says with a sigh. "Apologetic, but fascinated. The entire conversation was like 'oh no, that's terrible... by the way did he leave any notes about how he modified your Eradicator model?'"

"They were single-minded," Clark admits. "But... well meaning."

"Too well meaning," Thad says. "Especially with Joey."

Will's eyes narrow, and he carefully inspects Joey, looking for signs of damage or injury.

"He's fine," Clark says quickly. "Really. Completely unharmed."

 _Someone else explain it so that everyone can follow along,_ Joey signs. Not all of the Kents know ASL, and they're as much a part of the explanation as anyone else.

"I'll do it," Clark says, but his voice sounds strained. "Kryptonians live in a... a post disability society. Their medical technology is extremely advanced, and takes advantage of natural Kryptonian traits. When they learned that Joey was mute they were initially very welcoming..."

"Right up until we found out they were preparing to roll him into surgery," Jon says. He seems amused, which means things _didn't_ go badly, and the whole thing is more of an amusing story in retrospect than the horror show it sounds like.

"They were fully intending to simply... fix Joey's vocal cords. As you can imagine, we were fairly concerned that they wouldn't have a proper understanding of Human physiology and might make things worse, but we were _more_ concerned that they hadn't bothered to actually _ask_ or _talk to Joey about it."_

"And before someone asks," Ore says, "they totally could have talked to him any time they wanted."

 _I turned them down,_ Joey signs. _We nearly left the first day because of it, but they seemed to mellow out a bit. Apparently there's a famous Kryptonian general who lost his eye in battle and chose to continue on without it in recognition for those who he'd lost, so they sort of... vaguely understood the concept._

"Very vaguely," Thad says.

"We're hoping for some technology exchange," Lois says. "Some very, very careful technology exchange."

 _It wasn't all bad,_ Joey signs. _They did do some interesting_ —

Joey falters, and Will follows his gaze to find him staring at Jason. He gets up from his seat, crossing the room and bending down, squinting at Jason's face. Will can't see what he signs, but he can guess, and the way Jason goes red makes it clear enough that he's noticed the lack of scar.

"We've got stuff to tell you guys too," Jason says. "It wasn't a pit."

"That is an understatement," Damian says, mood obviously dropping. "Grandfather had confined an immortal in a pit and left him there, as he was unable to kill him."

"I'm sorry, hold on," Clark says, voice strained. "Ra's had an immortal captive?"

"Vandal Savage," Will says, and Joey jerks upright.

 _Vandal Savage?!_ He signs.

"The same," Will says. "From what we gathered, at some point Ra's managed to capture and imprison him, and simply left him down there indefinitely."

"But Ra's has been dead for years," Clark says. "He can't just have been..." He trails off, face pinched in obvious pain.

"He was," Slade confirms. "The decision was made to free him, and he's been handed over to the League. Diana's handling his case, but so far he hasn't actually done anything dangerous."

Will's happy Slade clarified that, but Joey still looks tense.

 _So if there wasn't a pit...?_ Joey signs after a moment, gesturing to Jason.

"I was given a small vial of Lazarus pit fluid as part of my inheritance. I made the choice to give a portion of that to Jason," Damian says. He looks proud of that fact, and he should be.

"Just a bit," Jason clarifies. "Just enough for... for my face."

Joey reaches down, trailing a finger across where the scar once was, and then leans down to kiss Jason's forehead.

 _I'm happy if you're happy,_ he signs as he pulls away.

"Tell them about your thing!" Thad says, clearly looking at Joey. Joey huffs, straightens up, and then fishes into his pocket, producing a small box. It looks Kryptonian in nature, and he simply pops it open, holding it out for everyone—mostly Will—to see.

Will squints, because what's in the box doesn't make any sense.

"...Are those the implants from your throat?" He asks, confused beyond belief.

Joey doesn't answer immediately, instead reaching into the box to retrieve something else. It looks like an open front metal choker made of a silvery metal, and he slips it on over the back of his neck, clearing his throat.

"Testing, testing," he says.

It's a surreal experience, because it isn't the voice Will's come to associate with him. The voice also sounds less synthetic, and seems to radiate out from Joey.

"The Kandorian's upgraded me," Joey explains. "Once they explained that they could retrieve the implants painlessly and explained how this worked, it seemed like a better solution. It also means we can hand the implants over to Wayne Enterprises and have them reverse engineer the technology more efficiently than they were before."

He pauses, then simply signs.

_But I still think I'm going to sign most of the time. If that's alright with all of you._

"Of course," Will says immediately, and there's a chorus of agreement. "The voice is going to take some getting used to, though."

The voice he's associated with Joey, more than anything else, was his _real_ voice. But that was the voice he had when he was a kid, and the voice he's using right then is a whole hell of a lot deeper.

"We've covered the most important details," Clark says, "but it does sound like there's more to talk about."

"We're going to have a League meeting tomorrow," Bruce says. "We'd tentatively planned for Monday, but everyone's going to be here, so no reason _not_ to do it."

"Earlier is better," Hal agrees. "Any chance I could crash at your place?"

"We've got one spare room," Bruce says. "Stewart...?"

John's already shaking his head.

"I have family I wanted to check in on. I'll come back tomorrow evening and leave with Hal then, if that's fine with you?"

It does turn out to be fine with Hal, so John excuses himself to go do just that.

"Maybe you should tell me some more about your trip," Will asks, flicking his eyes between Thad and Era as Joey excuses himself to talk (or make out) with Jason.

"Probably," Thad says. "...After food?"

Will supposes he can manage to whip up some food.


	64. Chapter 64

Thad stays very firmly underfoot as Will makes food in the kitchen. With everyone back, it seems important to use the kitchen, even if there's still some parts of it waiting to be installed. Bruce insists he'll make those a priority, but Will isn't exactly rushing for it.

"So what did you do while I was gone?" Thad asks when Will drops a plate in front of him.

"Saved an immortal caveman, for one," Will says. "For two... not much. We were mostly just around the house."

"What Will means to say is that he passed his nursing exam," Alfred says as he joins them in the kitchen. "Is it everything in order here?"

"No major issues I can see," Will says. "Just a few small things I've already dealt with myself."

"If anything does happen, be sure to let me know," Alfred says, excusing himself with a glass of water as he returns to overseeing construction on the far side of the house.

"So you're a nurse?" Thad asks, already done eating in the time it took for Will to look away.

"I'm qualified to be. I'm not an actual nurse."

"Don't you want a job?"

Will stops to consider that, then shakes his head.

"Not really," he says. "I'm happy with things as they are. Someone has to make sure Bruce and everyone here gets fed." Alfred can't be in charge of the house forever.

He spots Thad fidgeting out of the corner of his eye and turns, leaning back against the counter as he folds his arms across his chest.

"What?"

Thad fidgets some more.

"Thad, just tell me," Will says with a sigh.

"You're not going to come back to the Titans, are you?"

It's a fair question. A good one, even. He hasn't given it much thought, but at the same time, the answer seems obvious to him. It isn't one he has to stop and think about in the end.

"...No," he admits. "If you want to go back and rejoin them, I'm not going to stop you—hell, I'll even support you in it. But I don't think I'm going to ever go back to the position I was in before." He pauses, looking Thad over, and then fires back with his own question.

"You want to go back, don't you?"

Thad nods immediately. He's obviously given it a lot of thought, because it's not the sort of thing he'd have answered _without_ having thought about it.

"I liked the team," he admits. "I could literally... I could run back and forth to visit. I know it's really far—" He's obviously trying to explain it in a way that Will might accept, but he simply lets it roll off his shoulders.

"You don't have to explain it," he says. "You want to be part of a team. You want to be a hero. Jason's looking into the same thing... doing the superhero gig, I mean."

Which is a thought in itself. Jason as the leader of the Teen Titans _would_ be an interesting concept, and he makes a note to bring it up later.

"You've got till August anyway," Will points out, and Thad nods, helping himself to the second plate of food Will's offering him.

Thad seems to be doing well, and Joey's vanished into his room to _catch up_ with Jason, so Will makes a point of seeking out Era. With no construction work needing to be done, he's taken up a position at the strangest place in the house: hovering in the air just past the second floor's landing. It's an optimal defensive position, letting him reach any part of the house easily, but it's still more than a bit weird having him just hanging there, doing nothing.

"Era," Will calls, and Era drifts closer, landing on the floor beside Will.

"Yes?"

Will looks him over. He looks effectively the same as he did before. They've got him into normal clothes that look like something a human being would wear, but he still only barely passes for human. He still isn't expressive enough, and Will wonders if he should bring that up.

"How was Kandor?"

Era didn't exactly weigh in on things, and he's not sure how bothered he was by it. Did he think he should have been _decommissioned_ as well? Did he hate it there?

"I passed all data to the Kandorian systems to ensure that no information will be lost in the event of my destruction."

Not exactly what he was asking, so Will opts to be direct.

"They tried to decommission you?"

"I have deviated from my original purpose," Era says. "Placing me in a fully biological form was believed to Kandor to be an incorrect choice made by general Dru-Zod."

"And were you going to let them?"

"No," Era says, and Will feels himself relax ever so slightly. Good. At least there's _that._ "Even if I no longer fulfill my original purpose, being decommissioned would still be contrary to the primary objective I have taken for myself."

Will guesses that it's good that Era's putting it in terms of having _taken_ the objective rather than being _given_ it, but the whole thing—what is effectively a robot gaining sapience—is well beyond his experience with things. Even if everyone thought Will was going to _teach him emotions_ or whatever, the more he watches the more he realizes that he and Era have _very_ different objectives.

"Protecting Thad," Will says, and Era nods. "Don't you want... I don't know, anything else? Honestly, I was sort of expecting you'd come back from this trip acting more human. Or... more like a Kryptonian." Which act pretty human as far as Will can tell.

"No," Era says. "It is my understanding that humans spend much of their life seeking a greater cause, or a reason for their existence. This is unnecessary for me. I know the reason I exist, and I have found an important cause; Thad will be important."

"...Thad will be important?" Will asks, eyes narrowing. There's a certainty in the way Era says it.

"Perhaps I misspoke," Era says. "Thaddeus Wilson will be the greatest of the next generation of heroes. Between his abilities, his intellect, and his history, I see no reason why he would not be capable of shepherding humanity into a golden era."

Will actually has to take a second just to process that. It's not that Era _knows._ It's that Era believes so firmly in Thad that... wow. Will shakes his head, trying to process everything he just heard.

"...Is that why you're protecting him now?"

"His safety and upbringing are paramount," Era confirms.

"Seems a lot like that's a pretty big deviation from your _original purpose,"_ Will says, giving Era a smile.

To his surprise (and a shred of alarm, if he's being honest), Era smiles back, the side of his mouth quirking up.

"Thad's knowledge of Krypton makes him singularly capable of embodying the greater Kryptonian ideals."

Which is the sneakiest way Will can imagine of saying _I do what I want._

"Well, good to have you back," Will says.

"Will," Era says as he starts to turn away, and Will turns back around, his eyes rising to look at Era, who's already started to hover off the ground.

"...Yeah?"

"I will do whatever it takes in order to ensure Thad's safety," Era says, "but I am not his father. In the end, you will be the deciding factor in the path he chooses to take."

"I think you've got a hell of a lot more say in that in you think," Will says immediately. It seems right. Like the correct thing to say because more than anything else, it's _true._ It's definitely not just him responsible for raising Thad, and it's definitely not just him who are going to help Thad pick a direction.

Era doesn't respond, and Will turns away, returning to the construction down below.


	65. Chapter 65

Hal makes no secret of his enjoyment of Will's cooking that night, but for the most part things are uneventful. Jason and Joey make a brief appearance for dinner, and it's impossible to miss the fact that Jason's picked the highest necked shirt in his closet.

Will's cleaning up after dinner when Bruce approaches him, looking amused in a way that tells Will there's a story attached.

"Oh?" Will prompts before Bruce can start.

"You get to come to the League meeting tomorrow," Bruce says, the smile on his face obvious.

"...The League? Why?" He can't stop himself from squinting, bewildered by the idea. He doesn't _go_ to League meetings. The only time he's gone were times when he was needed, or his original introduction.

"ARGUS attempted to requisition your arm. So we want you to come along, show the fact that it's your arm and it's not going anywhere fast, and Steve will make an official note on the matter."

Will makes a frustrated noise. They're trying to _requisition his arm?_ Beyond the fact that it's literally attached to him, he's pretty damned _metaphorically_ attached to it. It works so flawlessly that he's forgotten it's anything other than a completely normal flesh and blood arm several times (if not most of the time), and that's not even counting the potential other uses for it in the event someone tries to stab him.

It's like always having a knife handy without anyone knowing you have a knife handy.

"What am I doing the rest of the meeting, then?"

"Sitting in," Bruce says. "Era and Thad are also coming along to fill in, so you might as well sit with them. It's more of an... open meeting. If anything confidential comes up, you can babysit in the lobby."

Bruce pauses, considering his choice of wording, and then corrects.

"Or go sightseeing. You know what I mean."

"I do know what you mean."

Hal's presence in the house rules out all but the briefest of affection, and the fact that he's sleeping across the hall from Will rules out Will spending the night with Bruce and Slade. It isn't as bad as it was in the hotel, if only because he knows they're nearby. It works out when Thad visits him that night to say goodnight, apparently intent on making up for the time away by being even more affectionate than usual.

They opt to head to Metropolis in two cars just in case Will and the others leave early. Will takes Era and Thad, a fact which strikes Will as _deeply_ pointless. Era can fly, Thad can run, and there's absolutely no reason he couldn't just let Era take him.

But he drives anyway, because it feels like a streak of normality in an otherwise deeply abnormal situation.

The meeting is more or less the definition of _nothing special._ It's bureaucracy at it's core, a room full of people talking about things they all mostly know. Clark recaps the mission to Kandor to them, with Thad and Era offering their own suggestions. The most interesting thing about the meeting is when Bruce broaches the subject of Jason.

"I wasn't sure if it would be appropriate to bring him along," he says, "but Jason has expressed a desire to return to... heroics. We've effectively been retired since going public, but he'd like to unretire, if it's possible."

"It is," Diana says immediately. "We'd be happy to have him, really."

"I wasn't clear on the legality of it, considering we stepped away to avoid having to deal with it in the first place."

"Legally the entire League operates in a government approved grey zone," Steve explains. "Vigilantism is still illegal, and anything done by the League could be prosecuted on the state level, even if federally the Justice League is recognized as a legitimate organization."

"Always good to know we could be arrested at any moment," Hal says cheerfully.

"Oh please," Arthur says. "Space is well outside the jurisdiction of any government."

"Legality matters more to some than others," Dinah says. She seems comfortable in her position, even if she's the newest member. She's taken a seat beside Roy, but she's doing most of the talking for them.

Roy's been quiet, and it's obvious to anyone who so much as glances his direction that he's feeling the loss of Barry.

"We should handle the matter of the nth metal before we go too far," Steve says as the conversation moves on. "Officially, Doctor Balewa's put in a requisition order... technically this is the _second_ time. Will?"

He looks up, and Will snorts, holding up his hand. There's no glove to remove, the metal obvious, and he simply flips it around, showing that it's intact.

"Still an arm," he says. "An attempt could probably be made to cut it off, but I'd rather you not do that."

"I thought as much," he says, "but formality requires we confirm it. I'm going to put in a formal request to have possession of it passed to you."

"Which means what, exactly?" Hal asks.

"Legally the arm will be his," Diana clarifies. "Right now the nth metal—and everything else on the ship—is legally the property of ARGUS the same way the power source that was removed from the ship is. Officially, ARGUS is lending the nth metal to him, thus the requisition order."

"What about Era?" Thad asks, perking up, before immediately sinking back down in his seat. "Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to interrupt..."

"It isn't an issue," Diana says. "This is hardly a formal meeting. More of a round table than anything. What is Era's legal status...?" Her head swings around, looking to Steve for insight.

"That's actually a matter we should address. I'm going to petition to have him moved to... full citizenship status. Get him an ID card the same way we have for everyone else who popped up out of nowhere. I'm not sure which family name I should put on the card, though."

His eyes flick noticeably between Era and Will, and for a moment Will wonders if Steve thinks something is actually going on between them.

But he doesn't ask, and there are some major advantages to letting him believe it, so Will says nothing to dissuade the idea.

"Era-e-Zod would be my correct name."

Will makes a face at that, while Clark perks up.

"The e...?"

"Indicates that I am a servant of their house."

"Were," Bruce corrects. "You're not anymore, though. So would your name change...?"

Era takes a second before responding.

"Era-e-Wilson."

Bruce makes a noise of exasperation that means he was probably thinking more _you don't need the e,_ so Will steps in.

"Just put down Era Wilson," Will says with an exasperated sigh. "Make anyone trying to figure out the family tree even _more_ confused."

Thad's grinning ear to ear as Steve notes it down, but Era doesn't object, so Will takes it as a win.

"Diana, what's happening with Vandal?" Slade asks.

"He's still around, if that's what you mean," she says. "He's adjusting slowly. He hasn't started talking yet." She glances to J'onn, who takes over.

"I can confirm he understands what we are saying at this point of time," J'onn says. "But for ethical reasons I have not delved into his mind, despite some concerns. In truth, I doubt my ability to analyze him without causing permanent damage. His neural structure is dissimilar to a humans in many vital ways."

"Is the level of deviance greater or lesser compared to the level of disparity in my own mind?" Era asks, showing apparent interest in the subject.

"Incomparable. Your own mind is a humanoid structure with a non-human mindset placed within. Vandar Adg's mind is a non-human structure, and the mindset is impossible to understand without extensive analysis. I also believe that until recently, there was genuine damage to his brain due to the isolation and starvation. Parts of his brain are likely still recovering, despite his high rate of regeneration."

"So he's staying in League custody," Diana adds. "He'll remain with us until we figure out what should be done with him. We do have living quarters here, which is where he's staying, and J'onn and I can keep an eye on him." She pauses, looking Will over, and then raises an eyebrow. "I expected you to cut in and remind me I should be careful."

"If he's stayed this long, he's not afraid of J'onn learning his secrets," Will says. "He'll stay with the League until you're not longer useful to him, and then he'll go out on his own. All the better if he can do it without protest. He's ambitious, not stupid."

"Good to know we have your blessing," Diana says with an amused smile.

The conversation moves on. Most of it's boring, and Will's happy when things finally start wrapping up. To his surprise, Era drifts towards J'onn to start a conversation all on his own, and Will's happy to let him go.

He's even more surprised when Roy approaches him.

Maybe he shouldn't be. Thad's standing beside him, and even if he hasn't spoken with Roy since Central City, Roy _is_ effectively the father figure for Thad's brother.

It's a complicated family.

"Will?" He calls, and Will catches Slade's glance over Roy's shoulder as he mouths _be nice_ as if Will was going to go out of his way to antagonize Roy for some reason.

"Yeah?" Despite himself, Will's hand drops down to Thad's shoulder to keep him in place, even though he doesn't _really_ think Thad is going to run away.

"Things have been kind of crazy here lately, but... Bart and I are actually in town for a couple of days, since we had to fly out anyway. I was thinking maybe we could... let the boys spend some time together."

He's extending the olive branch. Roy's made no mention of the mess at the funeral, and Will's content to leave it where it is.

"Thad?" Will asks, glancing down to make sure Thad's actually _interested._

"We could take them to the zoo," Thad says. He looks nervous, and Will can't blame him for that. "Maybe tomorrow, if I can take the time off school?"

"Sure," Roy says immediately. "Tomorrow works for us. We had plans tonight anyway."

Will suspects he's lying, but he's not going to call him on it. Roy's obviously awkward enough as is, trying to negotiate with the guy who's effectively the father of his son's brother.

They split up after some polite small talk, and Will makes a point of checking in with Thad once they're back in the car.

"You're alright with this?" Will asks. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No," Thad says, "I should... I haven't talk with Bart as much as I should. He just wants to be brothers, but I'm just..." His eyes drift off to the side. "I was him. I was an impostor. So it's weird that he even wants to talk to me..."

"You're way past that point," Will points out. "You're your own person, totally separate from him. Just go along with it like he's a friend, and we'll figure it out from there." With how fast they are, there's nothing stopping them from visiting more regularly. _Going over to a friends house_ could easily mean running between Central City and Gotham if they wanted it to.

"Alright," Thad says. "Should it just be us...?"

"Probably," Will says. "I'll call your school and pull you out. One day only, though."

Not like it's going to matter. He has no doubt about how Thad's doing at school, after all, and one day to establish a half decent relationship with his brother is absolutely worth any potential hit to his grades.

It's important, even if Will didn't always think so.


	66. Chapter 66

Hal leaves that evening, which leaves Will free to head up to Bruce and Slade's room. He's wary of Thad coming to look for him, but he supposes it's going to happen sooner or later, and getting it over with isn't as big a deal as he's thinking it is.

Which doesn't stop him from offering a prayer that if Thad _does_ come to check in on him, he doesn't do it when Bruce is giving Will the second best blowjob of his life as Will lays with his back to Slade's chest, his head lolled back so it rests on the larger man's shoulder.

Thankfully, Thad doesn't interrupt.

The two of them leave the following morning after Will's extracted a promise from Era to help Alfred out with overseeing construction. Thad's obviously nervous about the trip, fidgeting in his seat the entire drive up to the zoo. Will picks up some fast food for a snack on the way there, letting the distraction of a bag full of fries keep Thad from chewing on his lip too hard.

He actually seems to calm down when they arrive to find that Roy hasn't shown up yet. It gives them time to speak to the front gate, who recognizes Will by sight and immediately runs off to grab the acting manager.

Will isn't clear if there's a _friends and family of the Wilson-Wayne's_ button, but he imagines there might as well be.

"I'm so sorry," are the first words out of Roy's mouth when they arrive almost a half hour late. "There was traffic coming out of Metropolis, and then I went down the wrong street—"

"It's fine," Will says, cutting Roy off before he can blurt out any more apologies. "We haven't been waiting long." Thad's linger just behind him, practically hiding behind his legs as Bart leans over, trying to look at Thad despite the obvious awkwardness.

"Why don't we go inside?" Will says. "Lots of animals to talk about. Lots of distractions."

Thad's obviously happy for those distractions, but does tentatively emerge from behind Will to go inside with Bart. Will hangs back, trailing behind the two of them along with Roy, and hopes that the promise of a small legion of animals will smooth down the rough edges between the boys.

And it does. It's not immediate—not even close—but as they work their way around the zoo the tension seems to slowly ease out of the situation. Thad seems less self conscious of being near Bart, and Bart goes right back to doing Will remembers him doing: talking a whole hell of a lot.

"Thank god," Roy mutters under his breath, and Will raises an eyebrow questioningly.

"Bart's been worried Thad wasn't going to want to be around him," Roy explains when they can be sure the boys are out of hearing range. "I had to convince him to try this whole get together."

"Funny," Will says. "Thad's been worried Bart wouldn't want to be around him."

"What?" Roy asks, looking genuinely surprised. "Why?"

Will's doing his best to be friendly, but he's incapable of keeping a straight face in the face of such an impossibly stupid question.

"Why would the boy who is Bart's evil clone sent back in time to replace him be worried that the kid he replaced and took the life of would be upset with him, you mean?"

Roy goes as red as his hair almost immediately.

"Well," he says, mumbling every word, "when you put it that way..."

"They've both got issues," Will says. "They're both struggling with their own things. But as long as they can get past this awkward transition, I'm sure they'll be just fine."

Roy pauses, obviously mulling over his question, so Will waves him on.

"Go for it," he says. "I'm an open book."

"I'm guessing Thad's never going to come join us in Central City?"

"Not for anything more extensive than a sleepover," Will says immediately. He doesn't have to think about it. "Even if Bart wants to be his brother, fact is that Thad's _my_ kid. Full stop, no questions asked."

It's not up for discussion, and he wants to make that _very_ clear for Roy.

"Kind of figured," Roy says. "I talked about it with Iris before we came, and she guessed you'd say that. She was all 'you can't live with a kid like Thad for so long without getting attached. If he was going to hand him off, he already would have'."

"She's a smart one."

"No kidding," Roy says. "We're... sorry, I don't know how much you've been told about what's happening with Bart—"

"Basically nothing."

"We're co-parenting. Iris and I, I mean. She's taking the whole thing really well, and it helped that Bart already knew all about her. He was really eager to get along with her and had a whole bunch of stuff to tell her that his version of Iris had wanted to tell her. As far as she's concerned, it's all the perks of having a kid with none of the downsides."

"And you?" Will asks, flicking his eyes up and down Roy. He _seems_ good, but that doesn't really mean much. Just because he looks happy doesn't mean he is.

"Adjusting," Roy admits. "It was a big change. Losing— losing Barry, for one, but also moving to Central City. I'm lucky I've got a good support structure, and the work keeps me busy, you know?"

"I can imagine," Will says. "I spent a lot of time burying myself in my work too."

"Kind of different," Roy says hesitantly.

"Not really. It's the same thing, no matter what the work _is._ Easier to get distracted doing something that doesn't require you to think about things. Just don't overdo it, alright? Advice from an old man."

"Hard to realize you _are_ an old man sometimes," Roy says. "Anyone mistaken Thad for your bio kid yet?"

"Not yet," Will says. "Give it time."

Roy flicks his eyes between Will and Thad where he walks in the distance. The boys are the same size, but the blond of Thad's hair stands out next to his brother.

"That was his choice," Will clarifies, guessing at what Roy was thinking.

"Oh good," Roy says. "I didn't really want to ask, but..."

"He's close with his older brother," Will says. "I think he wanted to look more like he was physically part of the family, rather than being the odd man out."

"You were blond?"

"Grew up blond," Will says. "Hair bleached itself after the experiment that gave me my abilities. Doctor's said it went white from the stress on my body, but I'm not sure if I believe that."

The boys are speeding up in the distance, starting to non-so-subtly zip around the zoo. People are gawking, and Will pays them no mind, keeping his comfortable distance as he and Roy trail the boys.

"...We should do this more often," Roy says, almost to himself.

"You're several states away."

"The boys don't have to be, though. Bart could literally run up to Gotham after school without breaking a sweat."

Will gives it some thought before offering Roy a quick shrug.

"Sure," he says. "If Thad wants to come up, just give me a call so I know to look for him and have some food ready to feed him. I'll do the same for you."

"Sure," Roy says immediately. "That... I mean, assuming the boys want to—"

"Everything we do is dependent on what the boys want," Will points out. "I'll let Thad know it's an option. Whether he wants to choose it or not is up to him."

"What about..." Roy pauses, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Us?"

"Us?" Will asks, turning just enough for Roy to see his eyebrow going up.

"I mean... I wouldn't..." Roy reaches up, running his hand through his hair awkwardly. "I don't exactly have any _responsible adult figures_ in my life when it comes to parenting," he admits. "Both my dads are dead, and Ollie is... Ollie. It'd be nice to have someone I could... consult, as needed."

It's obvious from how much he keeps stopping and starting that it's difficult for him to ask, but Will's too busy struggling with the revelation that he's apparently considered a _responsible parenting mentor._

Hard to believe.

"Sure," he says. "Not sure how much help I'll be, but if worst comes to worst, I can always consult everyone else in the house."

"Great," Roy says, his face lighting up. "That— I mean, it's really helpful. Iris and I kind of got tossed into the deep end of parenting."

"No kidding," Will says. "But you're doing just fine."

He nods to where Thad and Bart lean against an enclosure fence, pressed shoulder to shoulder to get a better look at the animal on the other side.

The look of relief on Roy's face when he follows Will's gaze is nice to see. The guy _desperately_ needs a break, and Will's happy to see him getting one, even if only for a few hours.


	67. Chapter 67

Thad's in good spirits on the way back from the zoo, but it's the parting hug between the boys that Will knows will let him rest easily that night. He's not expecting any sort of questions from Thad, but of course he gets them anyway.

"If Bart's my brother, does that mean he's Joey's brother too?"

"No," Will says automatically. He figures if he drags it out—if he has to stop and think about it—it'll come across less genuine, especially considering how fast he tends to think in general.

"Why?"

"Being family's about more than just how you're related. You have to consider each other family. You're already starting to see Damian and Jason as your brothers, right?"

"Well, Jason's dating Joey, so he's like... an in-law?"

"And Damian?"

Thad shifts in his seat, considering.

"I guess I kind of do."

"But you don't consider Dick or Tim."

The answer is obvious, considering how little Thad's seen of them.

"Not really," Thad admits. "Is that bad?"

"Relationships aren't an absolute. Just because Damian considers Dick and Tim his brothers doesn't mean you have to. It's the same for you and Bart and everyone else. Just because you and Bart are brothers doesn't mean he and anyone else get a relationship by default."

There's more fidgeting that will guesses is actually leading somewhere.

"I think I just... like being his brother more than I like being his clone. Is that bad? None of Jon's brothers seem upset that they're clones. It's not like it's a bad thing."

"That's different."

"How?"

Will actually doesn't have an answer. Not right away. It's a sort of instinctive gut feeling for him, a sense that the way Clark's boys are clones is fundamentally different than the way that Thad is a clone of Bart.

But the problem is that most of his thoughts have to do with the word _replacement,_ and he absolutely doesn't want to say that to Thad.

"I think it's partially because of age."

"Because Clark's older?"

"Clark's older than the clones, so he's more capable of sliding into a parental role with them. So most people would think of it less like cloning, and more like... unique reproduction methods. Especially since they're not purely Clark—there's someone else involved, so it's more like having a kid."

"But I'm just Bart's clone."

"You're modified," Will points out. He wants to emphasize the differences, but he's not sure if that's a good idea when those differences were intended to make Thad a more useful weapon. "You're also around the same age. It would be strange for Bart to be treated like your father, so a sibling role is the closest family equivalent, considering your age. Or a cousin, I guess."

"I think he'd be upset if I said I wanted to be cousins with him."

"I think he would too."

Thad's perceptive, and Will has no reason to believe he's wrong. Bart would probably be devastated if Thad tried to declare them cousins, even if it didn't really mean anything in the grand scheme of their relationship.

"You can visit them if you want," Will points out after a long moment of silence. "I talked with Roy. We're going to try and talk more so that you boys can be clover. If he wants to come up here, you guys just have to let me know so I can make sure he's got food after the trip. I'll do the same thing with Roy if you want to go down there."

"They're going home today, right?"

Will nods absentmindedly.

"I kind of wanted to show him my room," Thad says, his tone careful and almost wary. Like he's expecting Will to have some reason to say _no,_ that Bart can't visit.

"You could do that today," Will says, "or on the next trip."

"...You know, Iris has a dog."

Oh no.

"I almost brought a Kryptonian dog back, but Joey pointed out I wouldn't be able to keep a hold of it if it tried to pull away."

Will's eyes slide over to where Thad sits in the passenger seat, noting the none-too-subtle sneaky grin on his face.

"And how long have you been sitting on this desire to have a pet, exactly?"

"Damian brought up his pets a lot when we were both with the Titans. When we were still in the hotel he brought it up a lot too... His dads said he couldn't have any more, so I think he was hoping I'd ask for one."

A pet. Will is—and has never been—a pet person. But at the same time, pets _are_ supposed to do a good job of teaching responsibility, and it's not like Thad couldn't manage to clean up after one.

"You'd be responsible for it's care."

"I know," Thad says immediately.

"Do you even know what you want?"

"Not yet," Thad admits. "I'd have to look things up. Do appropriate research before we made any purchase... or adoption. I think adoption would probably be better."

Will can't decide if Thad's changed his mind midway through the sentence, or if he was planning on adopting from the very start.

"You'd have to figure out what you were doing with them if you went with the Titans," Will points out.

"I would," he confirms. "I wouldn't want to just leave them with you, but I could... I don't know. If it was a pet that could take care of itself for a few hours, it wouldn't be a big deal, right?"

"Not a dog," Will says. "You wouldn't have a consistent schedule to walk it and give it the attention it needs."

"I could get a rat or a hedgehog or a gerbil or something," Thad says, his voice speeding up with excitement. "Or maybe a bird?"

"You'd have to be careful," Will says, doing what he can to keep Thad from getting _overly_ excited. "Some animals might not like when you zip around like you do. They might get scared."

"Which is why adoption is way better," Thad says. "Most places that do adoption require you to spend some time with the animal to make sure it's alright, so I could test it a bit."

Will isn't sure there's an animal in the world that would be alright with Thad shooting around the room like a bolt of lightning, but he doesn't bring that up. It's not like he knows much about animals—really, he's going to have to do research of his own.

"You'd have to ask Bruce and Slade," Will says. "It's still their house, and they might not want pets until construction is complete."

"I'll ask," Thad says immediately. "But I bet they'll say yes. Maybe I could get a pet bat? I bet they wouldn't be bothered by me zipping around."

"You can't have a pet bat," Will points out. "It's illegal."

"So is vigilantism."

Will actually has to process for a moment that somehow— _somehow_ —he's become the one telling people things are illegal.

"And we're trying to behave," Will points out. "Plus, any bats going to take off the moment you start moving too fast. They're not pets, Thad."

"Maybe a rat..."

He's already pulled out his phone, flicking through options. Out of the corner of his eye Will can see Thad burying himself in _what pet is right for you_ quizzes, and as much as he has no real interest in animals, he supposes it probably wouldn't be a bad thing for Thad to have something else to focus on.


	68. Chapter 68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains sexual content.

To Will's distinct lack of surprise, Bruce and Slade say yes. Or more accurately, Bruce says to ask Slade, Slade says to ask Bruce, and Thad has to pull them both into the same room to consult with each other.

"I don't see any issue with it, assuming Will's fine with it," Bruce finally declares, which Will answers with a firm shrug.

"I'm not a pet person," he points out. "But if Thad's willing to take care of it..."

It isn't until that evening, cuddling into Slade's back that one of them voices the obvious benefit.

"It's another thing he has in common with Damian," Bruce points out. "It'll be good to let the boys bond over something like that."

"Clark was talking about getting a dog," Slade adds. "So that's another one."

"I said no dog," Will says. "He's still planning on ending up with the Teen Titans again. Leaving a dog in one of those rooms while he's gone for hours at a time with no set schedule isn't going to work out, and I'm not saddling whoever takes over as their mentor with caring for a dog."

"And you don't want to care for it either," Bruce says.

"Exactly," Will grumbles. It's undeniably greedy of him, but he misses being in the center of the bed, and he makes up for it by burrowing deeper into the bed, curling up against Slade as he does.

"Not to change the subject," Bruce says, "but we've got an anniversary coming up."

Will mentally runs through his list of important dates and comes up blank.

"Thomas and Joey arrived here this Friday," Slade explains. "They'll have been here a year. Thomas... Thomas obviously can't come out and celebrate, but I was thinking we could take as many as the prison will accommodate and celebrate with him."

"Take the people he knows," Will says. "I'll keep Thad busy here." He doesn't see a point taking him or Thad there, not when the relationship they have with Thomas is curt at best. They barely know him, having only met once he was already in prison, and their visits have always been brief and to the point. 

"Are you sure—"

"I'm sure, Bruce," Will says. "I assume you're going to do something else for Joey when you get back? I'll get Thad to help us set up. Make him a cake or something."

"That would be perfect," Slade says. "Throw a little party now that we've got space."

"I'll get the construction team to focus on finishing up the kitchen areas. It's mostly detailing to get done there," Bruce adds. Will can see him curling against Slade's front, already starting to nod off.

"I'll handle the party than," Will says. "...With Alfred's help."

He doesn't want to think about what he'd do if it were just him.

There's almost a full week between then and Friday, but for the most part it's uneventful. Will spends every day half expecting some major update: for Vandal to vanish, or for Lex to launch the next phase of whatever scheme he has in mind. Similarly, he's _also_ expecting Thad to push the pet issue, only when Will brings it up Thad simply says he's still researching.

Will even catches Thad in a chat with Tanya talking about pets on Thursday evening, and after a moment's hesitation he moves over, settling down beside Thad to join the conversation.

Tanya doesn't exactly have any major insight on pets, but it's still nice to talk with her.

Despite Will's intent to handle the party mostly by himself, it ends up being about ninety percent Alfred. Will does handle the cake though, getting Thad to help him pick flavors and designs so that he can feel involved.

They start the cake on Friday morning before Thad goes to school, and Will bakes it and lets it cool so that it's ready to decorate by the time Thad gets back. It's done by the time the rest of the family returns from visiting Thomas, and Will lets Thad serve it up, pleased just by how happy Thad looks as he sets the cake down in front of his elder brother.

Will's in a very good mood by the time he retires for the night, crawling into bed and letting him sink right down. He almost doesn't notice when Slade crawls into bed after him, leaving Bruce finishing his nightly routine in the bathroom.

"You know," Slade says quietly, "I bet you're feeling all pent up, aren't you?"

Will is. Or he should be. His sex drive's always been high, but the last few weeks have been... busy. Even if he doesn't actually have that much to do, they've been emotionally exhausting in a way he's not yet used to, and that's kept his sex drive to a minimum.

"A bit," he admits after a moment.

Slade's arm winds across Will's waist, and he pulls him closer, drawing him into a kiss. It's rough and overly eager, and Will matches Slade's enthusiasm with his own.

"You know," Slade says when the kiss breaks, "Bruce has been waiting for a second round with you. Apparently he rather liked how rough you were with him."

"I'm sure you've been making up for my absence," Will says with a snort, and then jumps when Slade's hand trails down, running across the rise of Will's ass and dipping farther down.

"That isn't open for business," Will says quickly.

"Could be, you know," Slade says. The feeling of his fingers so close are making Will's entire body shiver, and he lets out a small hiss as Slade nips at his neck.

"It isn't."

"Then we can talk about that after," Slade says. "Tonight's about... inviting you in properly."

He wants that. He wants to be _invited in._ In a lot of ways he still feels like an outsider, and while he knows that he can't exactly expect to simply be on the same level with the two of them so soon after joining in, it's... definitely something he's eager to get past.

"Bruce wants to ride you," Slade says. "He's getting himself ready for that right now, since I was told you weren't exactly the best at foreplay."

"Better than I used to be. Used to not do it at all."

"I'd have kicked you right out of bed if you tried any of that with me," Slade says with a snort, his hands resting on Will's ass and resting there.

"You going to let me fuck you?" Will asks, raising an eyebrow.

Really, he hasn't given much thought to... how it's all going to work. His past experiences with men have all followed a very strict formula, and that's not even taking into account the fact that there's two of them to content with. Will only has one dick, and he's not quite sure what it is that Slade has in mind, let alone Bruce.

"At some point," Slade says. "We switch around depending on how we feel."

"I don't—"

"I get it, Will. You can stop with the posturing about how you're a big bad top who's going to dick everyone down." Slade huffs at him, his hands letting go, and Will realizes he's... made a mistake? He's not sure if it's an actual _mistake,_ but Slade's obviously frustrated. With him? With the situation?

"Just tell me what I need to be doing," Will says. That's what he needs right then: instructions. He needs to be _told_ what's supposed to be happening.

"Talk to me," Slade says, sitting himself down on the bed. "You've been with men. Did you just top them?"

Will doesn't entirely trust himself with speaking right then, so he nods.

"Did you ever even try anything else?"

Will shakes his head. It was a very, _very_ limited set of experiences.

"Come," Slade says, and he reaches out, winding an arm around Will's waist and pulling him in. It's disorienting not being in charge, and so close to _the real deal_ he's feeling that much more thrown off. He fights the urge to literally spar for dominance as Slade reaches up, taking his chin in hand and tilting Will's head down, dragging him into another rough kiss.

"Just for tonight," Slade says quietly, "it can just be you and Bruce."

Will's throat feels dry.

"Tell me what I should be doing," he says.

"I'm not going to fuck you when you're like this," Slade says simply. "You're all riled up. If you want, next time We'll... ease you into it. Bruce can show you just how good it feels. But we're not rushing into it tonight."

Bruce pops his head into the room, looking flustered.

"Are we not doing this?" He asks. "Did he—"

"I'm just not fucking him," Slade says matter of factly. "You're still riding. Now get in here and show off."

"I didn't put it on," Bruce says, his face going bright red. "Slade, it's embarrassing."

"Then get in here naked," Slade grumbles, tilting his head to look down at Will and offering an explanation. "I got him some _very_ appealing underwear... quite a while ago. He's been reluctant to actually wear them. Saving them for a special occasion."

"They're just... they're just very—" Bruce apparently can't quite figure out what he wants to say, and eventually shuffles in. He's just wearing his normal underwear, but he's stripped everything else off as he moves over to join them, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll get you in them eventually," Slade says, and then, in one swift move, simply upends Will, half-tossing him onto his back on the bed. It takes every bit of self control he has not to roll out of the bed by sheer instinct, and he _does_ growl, frustrated by the movement.

But Bruce is already climbing onto him, straddling his hips. He's eager, his body flush, and even with the underwear on his erection is obvious, the head of his cock only just peeking out over the band of his underwear.

Will tries very, very hard to focus on Bruce right then. He needs to get his brain into the moment. He can't go focusing on the fact that Slade may or may not be upset by the fact the fact that he's effectively been shut out of what was _supposed_ to be their first real time together.

"Let me blow you," he says quickly. That seems like the best way to handle it. Then Slade's still included. Then no one's left out.

"Yeah, no," Slade says flatly. "You've never given a blowjob before in your life, and getting ridden by Bruce is _very_ intense. Even with regeneration, I'm not risking your teeth getting into my dick, thanks."

"I have self control," Will snaps.

"I have no idea what's going on," Bruce mutters, "but I don't like it. Will isn't even..." Bruce's hand runs across his crotch, and Bruce is right: he's not even hard. He's too goddamn thrown off.

Will feels a like a hand's reached into his chest and is squeezing his heart. He's fucked it up. He's screwed up what's supposed to be an enjoyable time, and he has absolutely no idea what he's supposed to be doing. Is he supposed to keep going? Should he leave and let the two of them handle things?

"Will," Slade says. He winds his arm around Slade's waist, pulling him upright as he drags Will up against him. "Deep breath. You haven't fucked anything up."

Bruce is still half in his lap, but he leans in too, winding his arms around Will and pulling him closer.

"...Can we start over?" Will croaks.

"Tomorrow," Slade says. "Right now you're way too agitated for anything. I'd rather wait a few more days for a good time when everyone's in a good place than go on ahead with this and have it be unpleasant."

"I don't want to end the night like this," he says desperately. He really, really doesn't. He's too wound up, and the thought of going to bed with all of it swirling in his head is unpleasant.

Bruce drags him into a kiss, his hands running down Will's sides, and Will's breath catches just for a moment.

"Let me ride you," he says carefully. "Just lie back."

It takes no small amount of convincing for Will to finally let himself lie back, but by then, even _with_ his head swirling through the half million ways the night's already gone wrong he's still managed to get an erection. Bruce is an appealing man to look at, and with his head in Slade's lap he's got his pick of views, no matter which way his tastes might swing.

Slade wasn't kidding when Bruce said he was getting ready, because it's as simple as pulling his underwear off and lining things up. He's stretched out and lubed, and all Bruce has to do is sit, slowly sinking down on Will's cock.

The way Bruce arches, his head tipping back, makes Will stop thinking completely.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Slade says, his voice deep and husky as he watches the show. There's something hypnotic about watching Bruce when he starts to bounce, his muscular thighs easily managing his weight. The way his cock bounces, the way his eyes go all half-lidded... Will would say the site was downright pornographic if it weren't _literally_ something out of porn.

Slade's hand trails down Will's chest, dragging him out of the almost hypnotic state of watching Bruce ride him, and that's the only thing that gives him enough sense to issue a warning. It's barely a word, halfway to a _close,_ but Bruce obviously gets the picture, because he picks up speed, rocking down hard as Will chokes and finishes inside him.

He feels like he's floating as Bruce finally climbs off him, the afterglow washing away all the anxieties of the last hour. He's sure they're going to come crashing down again eventually, but Slade and Bruce are making an inspired effort to prevent it. He ends up cradled between the two of them, listening to Slade murmur soft reassurances in his ear as the sound of their heartbeats lulls him to sleep.


	69. Chapter 69

Will wakes to someone knocking on the bedroom door. He raises his head enough to note the lack of alarms, and then slumps right back down as Bruce fumbles for his phone.

"No alarms," Bruce mumbles.

It's early. Will doesn't think it could be anywhere past seven, and when he cracks an eye open and check's Bruce's phone over his shoulder he establishes that it's actually six-thirty exactly.

Which is his normal wake-up time, only right then he doesn't exactly feel normal.

"Stay in bed," Bruce says. "I'll see who it is." He's already getting out of bed, grabbing a housecoat that he pulls tightly around him. Will has no intention of getting out of bed right then. Even if he fell asleep in a pleasant haze, the morning is far less enjoyable: there's dried cum on him, and that's _never_ pleasant.

He really need a shower.

The moment Bruce opens the door, Will can tell who it is. He knows some heartbeats by heart, and Thad's is fairly obvious: a little bit faster than average, like it's speeding ahead all the time.

"Is dad in there?" Will can hear Thad ask, and Will buries himself under the blankets. He isn't trying to hide, but he _is_ making absolutely sure Thad doesn't see him right then.

"He is," Bruce says with a glance over his shoulder. "Is it an emergency?"

"Uhm, no," Thad says. "But it is time sensitive."

"Could it wait a half hour?"

"Yeah," Thad says immediately. "I'll meet him downstairs?"

"Sure," Will calls from the bed with a sigh.

"Hi dad! I'll see you downstairs," Thad calls, and there's a distinctive _woosh_ of air as Thad zips away.

"...That kid has too much energy," Slade grumbles from the far side of the bed.

"Speedster," Will points out as Bruce clicks the door shut. He lets himself set up, staring down at the mess they've made, and then makes a little _hmph._ "Please tell me you don't make Alfred do your laundry for stuff like this."

"I'll handle it," Slade says, making a shooing motion. "Get out of bed. Go get showered. Deal with your son."

Will grabs one of their spare housecoats—he's really going to need to get one of his own before long—and makes a dash for his room.

Fifteen minutes later he's showered, dressed, and on his way down to the kitchen. Thad's practically vibrating in his seat, obviously excited, and doesn't even wait for Will to start breakfast before he zips right on over, staring up at Will.

"If I know what pet I want, can we go and get them today? Because I told them to hold them but they said I had to get there _today_ and if not someoneelsecouldgetthem—"

"We can go," Will says, interrupting the ramble. "You already found one?"

"At a shelter," Thad explains. "They post pictures of all their animals up on their social media, and they had the perfect pet, but I knew someone else was going to get it, so I ran there and asked if I could reserve it—"

"Hold on," Will says. "You _ran there?_ When?"

Thad looks immediately guilty, which tells Will everything he needs to know.

"They opened at six-thirty," Thad mumbles. "I didn't want—"

"Thad," Will says, reaching down to rest a hand on Thad's shoulder. "I'm not angry. But you shouldn't leave the house without telling someone."

"But I'm really fast!" Thad protests. "It's not like anyone could catch me."

"It's not like you _know_ anyone who could catch you," Will corrects. "In my world there's a whole bunch of evil speedsters who might try and go after you. You shouldn't assume you're perfectly safe just because you're fast."

He has no idea how someone like Thawne would work. There may or may not be a Speed Force here, but more importantly there's no longer any Barry: if the whole reason Thawne came back was for him, shouldn't he have already been there?

Will puts the thought out of his head. Thad's still staring up at him, obviously nervous, so Will gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Promise me you're not going to leave the house without telling someone."

"What about school?"

"You know what I mean, Thad," Will says. "You're too smart to play dumb convincingly."

Thad shuffles a bit in place, but finally does nod.

"Okay," he says. "I won't leave without talking with you. But can we still go? Because if we don't, someone else is going to get them..."

"We can leave after breakfast," Will says. "You're not the only one living here, and _everyone's_ gotta eat, alright?"

"Okay," Thad says, obviously overly excited even _with_ the small lecture he just got. "I'm going to go see if Damian has a pet carrier!"

He's gone before Will can object, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

He makes breakfast for everyone, and it's clear that Thad's making no secret of his plans. When Slade joins him in the kitchen, it's with an amused comment about Thad being _overly excitable,_ and he opts to press a quick kiss to the back of Will's neck.

Will certainly hasn't forgotten what a mess the night before was, but Thad going pet crazy is doing an excellent job distracting him from it. Jason offers to handle the dishes (probably to stop Thad from zipping back and forth in place until Will's done).

Will, of course, is actually in the car before Thad drops the bomb on him.

"We're not going to Gotham," Thad says, leaning over as Will punches in the destination. "We're going to Brooklyn."

They're going _where?_

"Thad," Will says with as much patience as he can muster. "Brooklyn is part of New York City. That's two hours away _and_ we'll have to deal with New York Traffic."

"We could get Era to carry us!" Thad suggests. "Then it wouldn't be so far."

"I'm not taking a panicky animal via the Era express. Why do we have to go to _Brooklyn?"_ Will asks wearily. "There's probably a hundred animals that are perfectly adoptable right here in Gotham. Or if you really wanna be adventurous, Metropolis."

"No!" Thad protests. "It has to be them. Please?"

At some point in the last few months Will's lost any sort of ability to deny his kids anything, so he simply huffs, adjusts the destination, and gets on the road. He makes Thad, as the guilty party, text Joey to let him know they'll be gone a hell of a lot longer than he thought, but otherwise tries not to stress about it.

"So what kind of animal are we even going to pick up?"

He's half expecting Thad to say something absurd, like a monkey or a cheetah.

"A cat."

"A normal sized house cat?"

"A normal sized house cat."

"You realize they have those in Gotham."

"But I want this one," Thad says.

Will sighs and lets it go. Will's not sure he'd say Thad was _stubborn,_ but he's certainly learned that if he digs his heels in, Will won't hesitate to give him what he wants.

The drive takes almost two and a half hours, and that's _not_ during rush hour. The fact that the shelter is actually on the outskirts of Brooklyn rather than farther in helps, but by the time they've parked, Will's good and annoyed.

"It's enough to make a man want to go back to his old career," he complains as Thad zips inside. Technically speaking the fact that Thad's a speedster is supposed to be secret, but as he's become more comfortable it's becoming increasingly obvious. Will hasn't looked, but he's fairly sure that the public's picked up on it: Thad's just too damned obvious.

He's already talking to the staff by the time Will gets into the building. They've obviously been waiting for them, because the staff look happy as one of them chats away with Thad about pet ownership. They look less excited to see Will, but he _is_ the adult, so they pull him aside to give him the rundown.

There's a whole sheet of terms he has to read through and sign: that if the pet has to go back, they need to surrender it back to this particular shelter. That he confirms he can afford to take care of them. That he's made space in the house.

"I live in a mansion," Will grumbles to himself as he checks them off.

"All our animals are spayed, neutered, and chipped. We also require that the person who's going to be taking the majority care of the animal to spend at least fifteen minutes with the animal to make sure there isn't any major personality clash," the guy handling the adoption explains. "I'm guessing that would be Thaddeus?"

"That'd be him," Will says.

Will doesn't even get a _chance_ to go into the meet and greet room. When he starts to, Thad zips over, planting his hands on Will's chest and pushing him back.

"You can't!" He protests desperately. "I need to see them first so they'll get used to me, and then you can meet them after."

Will grunts and doesn't argue. He doesn't know enough about animals to know how true it is or isn't, but Thad obviously _thinks_ it's true, and none of the staff argue as they head into the side room. Will's left to wander the halls, peeking in cages and kennels and looking at the animals they have.

Will isn't an animal person. He's never really had a pet that was just his, rather than one he was borrowing from someone else temporarily. For the most part, he thinks the whole concept is sort of stupid, and while he's sure that the whole point of putting the kennels down two particularly long hallways is so that someone will look inside and feel their heart strings get tugged, he's effectively immune to that kind of emotional blackmail.

There's a section near the back of pets on their _last chance._ Mostly they're old, or have some kind of health issues. They've all got a little nameplate and a clipboard with their important information, along with a great big due date for how long before they're put down.

That doesn't bother him either. There's too many animals, and Will is firmly of the opinion that there's probably no point in even looking.

But he's still got another ten minutes before Thad's done, so he looks anyway.

He's near the end of the hallway when he notices one that stands out. The clipboard they've got is different from the rest, but it's the name that drags up a long ago memory.

Dexter.

Which is the exact moment that ten pounds of pure fury slams into the side of the cage, yowling to high heaven.

They're a Russian Blue, according to the paperwork, which lines up. It's the same silver-blue coat he remembers, and the name lines up.

Which isn't good. It's not even slightly good, because it means there's a chance—even just a very small chance—that the cat in front of him might actually be the cat he's thinking of from his own world.

Which really, _really_ isn't good.

He ignores the yowling and snags the clipboard, which lays out the facts simply enough: originally adopted from the very same shelter they're at right then. Surrendered to the shelter for holding after it bit a police officer. Just finished a ten day rabies hold, which means they're free to adopt, but also about to be put down.

The hissing and spitting the cat's doing is giving him a damn good idea why.

"Hey," Will calls, looking over his shoulder. Suddenly being addressed spooks the volunteer nearby, who's in the middle of cleaning out an empty kennel. The kid takes one look at Will—no doubt recognizing him—and then swallows hard.

"Y...yeah?"

"This cat," Will says, jabbing a finger at it. "Why'd it get surrendered?"

The man makes a face like there's no way he'd remember the story of _every_ cat in the shelter, and then the Dexter makes another furious yowl and the volunteer seems to realize which one he's talking about.

 _"That_ cat?" He says warily. "Bit a police officer, so they had to put it on a rabies hold."

"What about the owner?"

"Not sure," he admits. "They were surrendered, though, which means the old owner either doesn't want them or can't take care of them."

"Good. I want to adopt it."

The volunteer makes a face at the very idea.

"I... uh, I'm not sure that's a great idea. They're getting put down because they're vicious. They already bit another volunteer, and that's not counting all the ones who got scratched."

"You're not here to tell me what is or isn't a stupid idea," Will says, who knows damn well that it's a stupid idea. "I want this cat. Can you call someone who can make that official?"

The volunteer excuses himself as fast as his legs will carry him, and Will goes back to staring down the cat. The rest of the clipboard is almost painfully unhelpful. They've got an age, a list of shots given when they were first adopted, and precious little else.

"Mr. Wilson?" It's the same guy who made him fill out the set of paperwork for Thad's... _animal._ "What can I help you with?"

"I want this cat," Will says, hooking his thumb towards the _very_ angry cat he's standing beside. The poor guy goes several shades paler as he glances between Will and the furious animal.

"That cat? That cat is... well, he's being put down because he won't tolerate humans, Mr. Wilson," he says. The man looks nervous as all hell. "He bites, he scratches... he's dangerous to be around. If you were looking for a pet for yourself, there's plenty—"

"I want _this_ cat," Will says flatly.

The man swallows hard and musters up the very last bit of his nerve.

"Adopting that cat and the one your son is getting would be a bad idea," he says firmly. "That animal would almost definitely injure the one your son is in the process of adopting."

"They'll be kept separate," Will says. "I live in a mansion, I can afford to keep cats in separate areas of the house. What happened to the owner?"

"They died," the man says carefully. "They— well, it's in the news so I suppose you could look it up. Burglary gone wrong. The cat bit one of the officers, so they had to be surrendered. It's been... well, they've been vicious since they arrived, really."

Will doesn't know the history of the cat he's thinking of from _his_ world, but he supposes _loving owner was murdered_ is probably a good a reason as any.

"If— can I ask why this cat? We have hundreds of animals on site, and I'm sure we can find one that fits your criteria and is less... vicious."

"If I don't take this cat there's a decent chance it'll become a super-villain," Will says, which makes the staff member take a firm step back from Dexter's cage.

"Yeah," Will says with a snort. "That's about the reaction I expected. So I'm going to take him, spoil him rotten, and maybe if we're lucky we _won't_ have a murderous house cat flying around."

It's at that point that Will realizes he could tell the guy anything, and he would absolutely believe him. He doesn't seem at all doubtful, just alarmed by the admission.

"I... will go draw up the paperwork," he says. "I'll waive the normal bonding period. In this case I think we can firmly establish that he's not going to get along with you no matter what you do..."

He doesn't even look like he wants to _look_ at the damn cat, so Will takes a guess.

"...You're going to have to move him into a carrier and you're worried you're going to get mauled."

There's a very sheepish nod in response.

"Go grab the carrier and I'll handle it."

There are no less than four employees cowering in the corner as they hand the carrier off to Will. Technically speaking, he could absolutely just let the damn thing maul him and simply shrug off the pain. Or he could just be faster than it and toss it into the carrier before it can fight back.

Instead, he plays _smart._ He opens the cage, reaching in with his left hand, and lets Dexter try and maul him.

Of course, that means he's mauling _nth_ metal. The cat's lucky it doesn't chip a tooth, although it does hiss furiously when it realizes that chewing on the metal hand isn't doing anything. Dexter's helpless to resist as Will scoops them up, dumping them into the carrier with a whole lot of complaint.

"...Well, at least that's over," Will grumbles over the sound of the still furious cat as he holds the carrier carefully in his metal hand. "Where am I going now?"

"Right this way," the guy—probably the manager—says, staring at the carrier like Will's carrying a nuclear weapon.

On second thought, he'd probably look less nervous in that case.


	70. Chapter 70

Thad's standing just outside the door to the side room where Will left him, a pet carrier held clutched up against his chest. It's just a temporary one—a pretty harsh contrast to the one made of durable plastic and metal—and it proudly announces the name of the shelter they were adopted from.

Thad, of course, is squinting heavily at Will, his particularly large pet carrier, and the loud and obnoxious noises coming from the cat contained within.

"I adopted," Will says flatly. "I'll explain when we get home."

Thad dutifully leans down to look into the carrier, and gets hissed at for his trouble.

"I don't think he likes me."

"He definitely doesn't," Will says. "But I don't think he likes anyone."

He eyes the cardboard carrier in Thad's arms as they head up to the front of the shelter. Every bit of conversation has to be handled over the ear-splitting racket Dexter's putting out, but he gets the idea: the cost's fairly low, and Will drops a nice donation on top of that because there's no reason _not_ too, considering what they've been putting up with as far as Dexter goes.

"Can we—could we maybe get a picture for social media?" The manager says, looking downright desperate. Will debates his options, but inevitably relents. He leaves Dexter out of the photo—he's not risking taking him out of the carrier while they're still in the shelter—and settles in beside Thad as Thad carefully produces his newly adopted pet from the cardboard carrier.

It's a cat—a very young cat, by the looks of it. Will doesn't know a damn thing about them, but he knows it's definitely not a newborn, although it's still fairly young. It's still in that awkward toddling around phase where it can't quite control itself perfectly, but it isn't until Thad cradles the kitten in his hands that Will realizes why Thad picked this cat in particular.

The cat's colors are a mottled black and orange across the vast majority of their body, but their face is distinct: the right side of their face is pure black, while the left side is pure orange. Two little green eyes are peeking up at Will, but the effect is still clear enough: Thad's adopted a cat version of Deathstroke.

The grin on Thad's face makes it obvious that it was _very_ intentional.

"I saw her on social media!" Thad says excitedly. "She's perfect, right?"

Will reaches down, scratching the kitten between the ears, and Dexter makes his displeasure known by yowling again.

"She's cute," Will makes himself admit. "You sure you're up for taking care of a kitten?"

Thad nods his head as quick as he can, and Will lets the shelter grab a picture of the three of them.

"Alright," Will says. "First stop... a pet store. Some place with _supplies."_

"Damian has food and stuff at home," Thad says helpfully, and Will shakes his head.

"I want a decent carrier. Cardboard works for in the city, but I don't want us going two hours without a decent one."

An hour later, Will's walking out of the store with more than he knows how to deal with. He's only _intended_ to get a carrier, but somehow ended up with a carrier, a set of temporary collars (and tags), and a bag of cat treats.

Thad's cat—he's still debating a name—gets fed a treat, and when Dexter attempts to eat Thad's fingers, Will's forced to give them a treat himself, using his left hand only.

"What about Jade?" Thad says. "Jade Wilson. Because it rhymes with Slade Wilson, but she's got green eyes too."

"It's better than _purrstroke."_

"I still think we should consider that one," Thad says.

Will's too busy considering it a genuine mercy that Dexter's stopped screaming.

"What about Jill? Because then it rhymes with—"

"Jade's just fine," Will says. "Matches her eyes."

"I told you," Thad says quietly to the kitten already sleeping in her carrier. "I told you he'd like it."

By the time they get home hours later, Will is starving. They haven't really eaten anything in their desire to get back, and they've completely missed lunch. Will's unloading the carriers when most of the family starts pouring out of the house to inspect the new arrivals, with Damian darting ahead, Titus hot on his heels, to look.

"This is Jade," Thad says, holding up the carrier. Jade's starting to stir, but still looks mostly asleep.

"We saw," Damian says firmly. "Everyone saw. The shelter posted it online and then everyone started passing it around, because Deathstroke adopted a Deathstroke cat, and now everyone's trying to figure out just who you are."

"Not surprised," Will says, grabbing Dexter's carrier and closing the car up.

Dexter takes the opportunity to scream at the top of his lungs, and Damian's eye goes wide in confusion.

"Dad also got a cat!" Thad says helpfully.

"I got the meanest, nastiest cat available. You're going to want to keep your fingers well away from this one, alright Damian?"

Damian makes a face at the carrier, but Will simply brushes past him. He wants the cats _inside_ before they get too involved with the meeting and greeting. Everyone else seems to agree, because they head upstairs to the second floor, settling in on the chairs and couches there while Damian goes to put Titus away for the moment.

"You got _two?"_ Bruce says, his eyes falling to Will's carrier.

"I got one and Thad got one," Will says. "Mine has a story attached, though. Someone grab me a tablet."

Will settles down, resting the carrier just beside him, and accepts the tablet Jason offers him as he starts to flip through it, accessing the systems they already have in place.

Neither Dexter nor Dex-Starr have any sort of record, but there is one for the Red Lanterns as a whole. Will's in the process of pulling it up when there's a yelp, and he looks up to find Damian pulling back from Dexter's carrier, one hand covering the other up.

"Scratched you?" Will asks. "Well, good news is he doesn't have rabies, he's just really mean."

Bruce's expression is pained, the _why did you bring this demon into my house_ written all over his face. Will pulls the photo up, flipping it around, and demonstrates exactly why.

It's not exactly a good photo of Dexter. Really, it's barely recognizable as him since the photo's taken from so far away, but there's four other Red Lanterns who are obviously considered higher priority than one house cat.

"That's Atrocitus and his people," Will explains. "Red Lanterns represent rage, the way Green Lanterns represent will. They literally vomit blood and are always angry. You see that little thing?" He reaches up, tapping the spot that looks a lot like a small animal. "That's a cat called Dex-starr, who's Arocitus's pet cat."

A whole lot of eyes turn to look at the carrier sitting on the couch, and Dexter, annoyed at being looked at, hisses at them.

"So... it isn't a cat?" Slade guesses.

"He's a cat," Will says. "They're just a cat that gets picked by a ring. "They've got a history that would make anyone angry, and they were scheduled to be put down, and I wasn't willing to risk a Red Lantern ring zipping down to save them right as they were going to be put down."

"So you adopted them," Bruce says warily. "While I think keeping them from being put down was the right choice, considering the potential consequences... I have some... concerns."

"Dexter can stay confined to my room until he settles in. He'll have to relax at some point."

 _Considering he qualified for the rage Lantern Corps, I'm sort of doubting that,_ Joey signs.

"How can an animal even be in the corps?" Jason asks, mostly to himself.

"Probably couldn't be, for Will. But rage is a pretty simple emotion."

"I want to see the kitten," Damian announces, so Will pats the top of his carrier and lets Thad move forward, producing Jade from her carrier. She's still half asleep, dozing in the crook of his arm, but perks up when Thad puts her down.

"She is adorable," Alfred says firmly. "But you shouldn't let Portia—or Titus—around them right away. There are steps to be taken to introduce the two of them, so it would be best if we were careful about things."

"Handle Titus and Jade first," Will says. "Dexter can come after."

It's almost inevitable that Bruce ends up online shopping for everything the cats could possibly need. Jason chimes in by dropping a number of cat behavior books off for Will and Thad, while Damian (and Joey) help Thad out by playing with the new kitten.

Alfred delivers food maybe an hour after they've gotten back, which Will devours without hesitation. Thad's food more or less vanishes as he speeds through eating it so he can get back to his kitten, and for once, Will doesn't even think to chide him.


	71. Chapter 71

As much as Jade is an angel—quiet, cuddly, and adorable—Dexter is a devil.

He screams at everything. He hisses and tries to scratch and bite. When Will opens the carrier in his room with the door safely closed, Dexter's first action is to dart out of the carrier as fast as he can, leap onto Will's bed, and start shredding his pillow.

"No!" Will yells, snatching Dexter up, but the damage is already done. Dexter hisses at him, trying to claw at his arm again, but gets no actual reaction in light of the nth metal. Will can feel the clawing happening, but it doesn't hurt—it's really just a slight pressure and nothing more.

"Listen here," Will says firmly as Dexter hisses at him again. "We're going to have to work together on this, so _you_ need to stop being such an asshole. I don't want to have to keep you locked up in my room forever, and there's a great big house waiting for you out there, so behave."

Dexter, to the surprise of absolutely no one, does not behave. He scratches at almost anything he can reach (Will carefully hides all his valuables just in case), and when Will sets down the scratching post, Dexter's response is to walk right on over to the dresser beside it and go to town.

Emergency measures are clearly needed. After some hasty debate, Will gets Dexter back in the carrier (nearly losing an eye in the process), taking him to the vet to have his nails trimmed. The vet nearly gets mauled when she foolishly attempts to open the carrier while Will's handling payment, and in the end recommends tiny soft covers over Dexter's nails.

"Most likely he'll pick them off," she says, sounding exhausted. "But at the very least that gives you a bit of time where he _isn't_ trying to injure someone."

"That's all I'm asking for," Will says. "Get some good food in him, show him he's not in danger... maybe he'll calm down."

The vet's strained expression makes it clear she doesn't think it'll be that easy, but Will's going to take the chance anyway.

By the time Will gets back to the manor, just before dinner, he's too exhausted to cook. He doesn't have to: the Kents stop by with _convenient leftovers_ which they _just so happened_ to make too much of. Will's too tired to even complain, eyeing the cat warily.

"Maybe you should make their food," Damian suggests as they eat. They've got a nice quality canned food for the animals, and Will isn't sure why that isn't good enough. "It's healthier. Plus, you can make sure everything they get is fresh."

 _You should be feeding Dexter anyway,_ Joey signs. _That way he'll associate you with food and be friendlier._

"That's assuming he doesn't try and eat my fingers," Will grumbles. "If you told me he had a taste for human flesh, I wouldn't doubt it for a moment."

Will makes a second attempt at releasing Dexter into his room, which works better the second time around. Unable to properly scratch anything, Dexter settles for glaring (as much as a cat can glare) at Will as he goes about his normal nighttime routine.

There's not really any question of sneaking off to Bruce and Slade. Dexter needs supervision, and if Will's being completely honest with himself, he desperately needs some space. He needs time to... adjust. To let himself stew on everything that happened, for good or bad.

Even if it's messy. Even if it feels like an open wound. He knows it wouldn't have been _that_ bad—Slade and Bruce acted perfectly normally—but it feels like it was.

Like it really, really matters.

Sometime between Dexter's angry noises and the lulls of silence, Will manages to fall asleep. Of course he's woken up in the middle of the night by Dexter pouncing on his chest, but at least he sleeps _most_ of the night (once he shoves Dexter onto the other half of the bed and ignores him hard enough, anyway).

Joey's advice is good. Feeding Dexter makes him at least temporarily docile, and with Will doing the feeding he seems a tiny bit less hostile to him in the aftermath. Will isn't stupid enough to rule out surprise attacks, but he allows himself, at least for a moment, to be cautiously optimistic that Dexter might one day not hate absolutely everyone.

The next few days are a veritable _parade_ of visitors. Dick and Dax of course have to come down and see the new kitten (with Will's fingers in Dexter's collar and the cat held firmly on his lap so they can investigate from a distance). The Mayor stops by briefly to talk shop with Bruce about his re-election campaign and Thad insists on showing off his new kitten to the bemused man. The Wayne-Gordon's drop by to see the new arrivals, and there's even a brief surprise appearance by Wintergreen and his daughter, who stop by one afternoon to see everyone and are _very_ surprised when Thad shows off his kitten.

"Hmmmm," Wintergreen says, dragging it out as he eyes Jade's _unique_ face. "Reminds me of someone. But I just can't place who..."

Cass gets along well enough with Jade, but seems more interested in talking—in quiet, reserved English that's lightly accented with a copy of Wintergreen's own accent—with the rest of the family. There's a lot of history there that Will's largely not privy too. He doesn't really know her, although Wintergreen's familiar enough, and he's only met her a few times. Even so, it's clear she's doing a lot better, the change in her body language between their first meeting and their second almost painfully obvious.

She seems much more interested in Dexter than she is in Will himself, but Dexter isn't any more friendly with her than he is with anyone else, hissing at her when she gets too close. She hisses right back, which seems to confuse Dexter, and Will snorts, reaching down to scratch the cat between the ears. Dexter hisses his fury, but doesn't actually go anywhere or try to escape.

Thursday evening, Bruce announces some unexpected news: Kate's coming to visit.

"Soon? Now?" Jason says, looking surprised. "We don't have guest rooms."

"Not until next month. She'll be here sometime in may, and she's going to give me more details closer to the date. She's very busy as of late."

"I remember being busy," Jason says with an exaggerated sigh. "I miss it."

"League's working on your stuff," Slade says, patting Jason on the shoulder. "It won't be too long."

"Hope not, because I'm _desperate_ for some action."

 _Don't jinx yourself,_ Joey signs, and Jason rolls his eyes.

"If anything goes wrong before the house is done, whoever did it would regret their decision for the rest of their life."

"Does Dexter count as having attacked the house? Because there are some serious scratch marks on my wall..."

"I'll have the painters take a look at it," Alfred says, obviously amused rather than annoyed, and the conversation turns to the construction, rather than the impending visit.


	72. Chapter 72

It's later that same night that Will gets ambushed.

It's not like he's actively trying to avoid Bruce and Slade. If anything, it's subconscious, but Will's a bit too smart to not have the self awareness to realize what's been happening when Slade effectively corners him in the hallway on the way to his room, his one eyebrow seemingly permanently raised.

"Will," he says. "We should talk."

"We probably should," Will says. "...But give me a second."

He ends up relocating Dexter from the main room of his bedroom into the side room and bathroom, securely closing the door before letting Slade in. Slade pointedly looks at the scratch marks on the bottom of the dressed, and Will only shrugs.

"Never mind," Slade says after a moment. "Not what I'm here to talk to you about."

"I guessed."

"Then do you want to start us off?"

"That's going to be a no," Will says with a snort. If Slade wants to talk about it, he's going to have to be the one talking about it.

"Then I'll get right to it," Slade says. "You're going through something a lot of guys go through. Being on top is something that gets touted around as a way of showing how masculine you are, and playing any role _but_ that one feels uncomfortable."

"I don't—"

Slade holds up his hand.

"Let me talk," he says. "I've got a piece to say, and you might as well let me finish."

"Then finish it up," Will says with a wave of his hand. He's... frustrated? He's having a hard time putting a word to the emotion he's feeling. Agitated. Upset. Only there's nothing to be upset about, which only makes him feel _more_ upset.

"You're not comfortable doing anything but topping. And if you try things out and that's all you like, then so be it. We can work with that. I switch it up, Bruce switches it up, and if you only want to top, not a problem."

"Just get to the part where you say what it is you want me to do," Will says. He knows it's coming, and he'd rather not beat around the bush. Slade rolls his eye, leaning back against the wall.

"You've got to at least give it a fair try," Slade says. "You probably want to try it out on your own, get a feel for it, and then we can screw around... or if you want—"

"I don't really do stuff myself," Will says flatly. No point beating around the bush. "When I satisfy the need, it's with a partner. ...Or partners," he corrects quickly.

"Then we can work as a group," Slade says. "Or just me, or just you and Bruce. The point is that you have to at least _try."_

Will knows he's getting flustered. He can _feel_ his face going red, and he wants nothing more than to find a convenient reason and excuse himself.

Except they're in his bedroom, he was about to go to bed, and Slade isn't nearly stupid enough to believe any story Will tried to feed him.

Will isn't expecting Slade to reach forward, and when Slade does Will's brain all but shuts down. The feeling of Slade's fingers ever so lightly brushing across his cheek _does_ things to him, and Will shivers, eye going half lidded as he stares up at Slade.

"Try," Slade says, and Will realizes in that moment that Slade has, without question, learned to use his sex appeal as a weapon in a way he never quite managed. Certainly not with _men,_ anyway.

His mouth feels dry.

And then, of course, Dexter proceeds to screech so loud that Slade twitches, his mouth twisting into a scowl as he turns to look towards the side door.

 _"That cat,"_ he mutters. "We should have made Hal take it. Lanterns are his business."

"He'd have _only_ lost an eye if he was lucky," Will says, halfway relieved that Slade's attention is no longer on him. "Hal can't handle the cat. I can barely handle the cat."

"Well ignore the cat," Slade says. "Come upstairs with me and I'll give you what you need, and we'll work out... something."

"Something."

"I meant an agreement," Slade says with a snort. "I'm not going to jump you unless you want to be jumped."

"Cute how you think you'd win that fight."

"Of course I'd win. I play dirty," Slade says with a wink, heading out the door and up the stairs. Will lets the very angry cat out of the side room, making absolutely sure Dexter doesn't slip out with him, and then follows him up to Slade's room. Bruce isn't there, to Will's surprise, but he's deeply happy for that when Slade retrieves what looks like a goddamn _treasure chest_ from under the bed.

"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"Then I won't, but you'll know. Lube's important. Toys are fun. Bruce is a bit more adventurous than most people give him credit for."

"Oh?" Will says. Part of him desperately wants to know. Part of him most definitively does not.

"Managed to convince him to put on his old batsuit and let himself get kidnapped by big bad Deathstroke. Took him to one of his own safe houses and had my way with him."

_"In the suits?"_

"Apparently he likes the suits more than he'd ever be willing to admit," Slade says, digging through the chest. Will can't see the contents, and right then, he absolutely doesn't want to. The thought of what Slade's just described—of _Deathstroke_ and _Batman_ rather than just Bruce and Slade is... an interesting one, and his body is absolutely reacting even if he'd prefer it didn't.

"Here," Slade says, holding out something for him to take. "Already sanitized. And some lube." He drops a bottle in Will's hands.

The thing he's given him amounts to a thin rod with a bulb on the end, and Will looks at it warily.

"You going to try it on yourself, or do I need to?" Will asks, raising an eyebrow. "Can't say I'd object to the chance to take you apart..."

Slade makes no attempt to hide how predatory he sounds as he closes the space between them, wrapping his hand around Will's wrist and pulling him onto the bed. It isn't a hard tug, just enough to avoid setting off Will's fight-or-flight instincts, and Slade drags him into an aggressive kiss as Will sets right on the edge.

Will likes that . He likes the way it's an actual fight in a way that the time he spends with Bruce isn't. With Bruce it's... soft. Careful. With Slade it's anything but, all teeth and force with the clear understanding that a few bites and bruises aren't going to make a difference. If Slade bites hard enough that he tastes blood, so be it—the damage will fix itself up before anyone can see, anyway.

"No cat this time to save you," Slade growls. "You're all mine."

Will offers at least a half-hearted fight, but his heart's in his throat as Slade eases him back onto the bed. It's impossible not to feel tense about the whole thing, and he has to force his heart to stop pounding away in his chest. There's no danger. There's nothing that could possibly go wrong. He _knows_ Slade's going to be careful with him, because he's been around Slade long enough to know he's that kind of person. That he'd take genuine pride in being good at what he's doing.

"Why don't we get those clothes off you—"

The door swings open, and Bruce stands on the threshold, caught like a deer in the headlights.

"Don't just stand there," Slade huffs, the moment broken.

"Sorry," Bruce blurts, and then when he seems genuinely torn on if he's going in or out, Slade gestures for him to come in. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's your bedroom," Will points out. "You're allowed to come and go as you damn well please."

"I meant to come back earlier," Bruce admits. "Joey pulled me aside—"

"We were kind of in the middle of something, so can we catch up after?" Slade asks.

"No, hold on. Joey pulled _you_ aside?" Will asks. Part of that almost _bothers_ him, because Joey is _his_ son, and... well, what does he need to talk to Bruce privately about?

"I give up," Slade groans, falling back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. "The rule was no talking about the kids when we were about to screw around."

"I didn't mean to," Bruce protests. "You can still go back to it."

"No we can't," Will says. "Why did _Joey_ want to talk with you?"

That's far more important than the fact that Slade wants to put something up his ass.

"With Jason going back to heroics, the two of them have been talking about what they want to do with their lives. Joey originally had plans to go into art, but he said he's given it some thought and decided that while he loves his artistic pursuits, he loves them primarily as a hobby and doesn't want to do them for a living."

Will's boner has firmly died, and he folds his leg across his knee, his arms crossing across his chest as he listens. "And?"

"Sure you wouldn't prefer to hear it from him?"

"It's not a _secret,_ Bruce," Will says. "Just tell me."

"He said that while he hated it when he started, he did actually like running his mother's business. He said it made him feel accomplished, and met a lot of his emotional needs in a way that art doesn't. He was hoping to do something like that again, and was wondering if I had any connections that could get him into a mentoring program."

"I'm going to go ahead and assume you do."

"Of course," Bruce confirms. "I promised I'd send his information on to Lucius. He's always looking for young up and coming professionals, and he'd be happy to have someone around the company with at least _one_ of my surnames."

"Damian hasn't mentioned wanting to go back to the Titans to me in a while," Will points out. "Maybe he'll go for the company when he's older."

"Possible," Bruce admits, "But that's still a ways off."

Will doesn't point out that Damian isn't all that far off Tanya's age at this point.

"Are you going to spend the night?" Bruce asks, turning his attention to Will, and after a moment he shakes his head.

"Need to keep an eye on the cat," he admits. "At least until he's settled in. He seems less vicious now than when he first arrived."

"Take the toy," Slade says. "Try and use it. See how you like it."

"I'll keep it in mind," Will says, scooping it up as he gets up off the bed. "No promises."

"Wasn't expecting one," Slade says.

Bruce leans up, giving Will a quick peck on the cheek, and he excuses himself back to his room, hiding the toy for later.

Maybe _much_ later.


	73. Chapter 73

Will is dragged back to consciousness by pain. It's not bad—he's had much, much worse—but it is sudden and sharp, and he immediately recognizes the source when his eyes snap open and he spots Dexter standing on his chest, digging his nails in (how he got the nail covers off, Will won't ever know).

But the _the cat is no longer allowed in my bedroom_ doesn't even last a full second before he realizes that Dexter is both hissing _and_ not looking at him. He's staring out the window, and Will turns his head to look.

His instincts run faster than his brain for once. He sees the glow of red eyes hovering just outside his window and instinctively rolls, hooking an arm around Dexter and dragging him off the bed a split second before twin heat vision beams arc across the bed.

The bed bursts into flames, but as fast as Will is on his feet, the attacker's already gone.

Not that he needs to see more: he recognized what he was looking at, and he'd know Era anywhere.

Will goes into battle mode, Dexter quiet for once as Will hauls the cat around. He dives for the room's security system right as the fire extinguishers go off, hitting it and announcing his activation codes.

"378 column, authenticate for Will Wilson," he says. "Full alert, Justice League and family, information to follow."

Technically he has no right to declare a full alert for the Justice League, but that doesn't stop him from doing just that.

The system takes another second—the fire's already starting to go down—and then the house's alarm screams, no doubt dragging everyone awake.

Thad's at the door in under five seconds, still in his pajamas. It hasn't even been a full minute since Will woke up and he's already ready for whatever crisis this is to be over.

"Grab the fire extinguisher from the stairs and cancel the fire suppression in my room," Will tells Thad, who simply follows Will's orders the way months of training with the Titans have taught him. Will doesn't want to risk more damage to the room, but realistically it'll probably have to be gutted anyway. There's damage from the fire and the water and that's not even counting the lightly singed holes shot through the glass of his window when Era tried to kill him.

Because realistically, that's what he's looking at. That's what _they're_ looking at.

"Will!" Bruce yells, nearly colliding with the door frame as he rounds the corner. "What the hell's going on?"

"Era's gone rogue," Will says flatly. "Cat woke me up just in time to roll off the bed. I already did a full alert for the League—get Clark checking the Kryptonian ship in case someone managed to remotely hijack him from there, I need security footage—"

Dexter, apparently done being helpful for the moment, bites his arm. Will scowls at him, but ends up releasing the cat into the side room of his bedroom, closing the door. Everyone else is already starting to pile in, some already in gear while others are arriving in their nightclothes.

"There's no way Era would do this!" Thad protests desperately. "He's not like that."

"Someone's got control of him," Will says. He doesn't know that for sure, and he shouldn't be saying it, but at the same time it doesn't feel like a lie, either. He _wants_ to believe that what he's saying is true.

"Jason, Joey, check Era's room for anything suspicious," Slade calls without looking up, already tapping away on a tablet as he pulls up security footage. "Bruce—"

"I'm handling Clark and the League," he says, excusing himself immediately.

"I'm going to check on Alfred—" Damian starts, only to be interrupted by the arrival of the man himself.

"Oh dear," he says, his face going pale at the sight of the bed—covered in fire-squelching foam but still clearly cut in half—and the general disarray of the room.

"Clark's on his way," Bruce says., returning to the group. They're more or less all gathered in the hallway, and Slade doesn't even bother calling their attention to himself. Instead, he simply holds up the tablet and presses play.

There aren't any cameras inside the bedroom, but there is one outside, overlooking Era's patio and part of the side of the house. From the angle, they can see Era open the door and step outside, leaving the door open as he lifts off from the patio and flies slowly to the side, towards where Will's room is.

But it's the twitching that gets him. Era's movements aren't entirely smooth. Instead, there are small little twitches as he moves, little signs that Will immediately reads as him fighting for control.

"And this one," Slade says as Joey and Jason get back, shaking their heads. The view is different, showing nothing but the side of the house, and it's only when Era floats into view that Will realizes he's looking at the camera feed from outside his room.

But the attack isn't instant like he thought. Era's floating there almost a solid two minutes before he finally fires, twitching all the while.

"He was fighting it," Thad says, his tone one of awe. "He was trying to make sure you'd get out of the way."

"Seems like it," Will agrees. If he hadn't, Will has absolutely no doubt he'd be dead.

"We need to find out where he went," Damian says, stating the obvious problem in front of them. "Could we use satellites...?"

"If he were floating somewhere in the sky, sure," Slade says. "Kryptonians fly too fast to be tracked if you don't know where they're going."

"We check the usual suspects," Jason says. "Who's active who might be behind this?"

"Check Vandal is still in place," Slade says, and Jason makes a face.

 _No matter how Jason feels about him, he's a literal caveman,_ Joey signs. _Hijacking a former Kryptonian Android is a bit beyond his capabilities._

"I'll check anyway," Bruce says. "Just because he isn't behind it doesn't mean he's not involved."

Will wracks his brain. There has to be something else he's missed. Some detail. He's one of the smartest people on the planet with almost limitless resources, and the fact that all he can do is stand there is beyond frustrating. Everyone else has things to do. Bruce talks with the League. Alfred does what he can to minimize the damage to the room. Jason, apparently aware that there's probably going to be some amount of explanation needed, takes photos of the damage.

Thad, on the other hand, slides up to him and wraps his arms around Will's middle, holding him close.

"You almost died," he says, his voice so soft Will doubts anyone but him and Slade could hear.

"Please," Will huffs. "I'm too stubborn to die."

Even worse: he almost died the exact same way as Barry, cut in half by a Kryptonian. He wonders if his arm would have helped—would it hold up against the heat vision? Would it have shifted to protect him if he hadn't been warned by Dexter in time?

He decides it's better not to think about it.

"Vandar's in bed," Bruce announces. "No breakouts or unusual activity in the last few days. Clark should be calling any minute."

Any minute turns out to be thirty seconds later, and everyone who's still there crowds around the phone as Bruce puts him on speaker.

"Find him?"

"No," Clark says immediately. "Wherever he went, it isn't here, Bruce. There's no sign of any trouble up here."

Will reaches up with one hand, rubbing at his temples. There's no pain there—headaches have to be extreme to give him any sort of bother, even temporarily—but the gesture lingers anyway.

"We have to find him," Thad says. He's no longer desperately clinging to Will, but he _is_ staying very close to Will's side. "What if he gets hurt because they can't control him?"

"Hal isn't in the area," Bruce confirms. "We can't confirm if a Kryptonian has come back this way without him."

The more Will thinks about it, the more frustrated he gets, and he lets out a small grunt of fury at the feeling: that there's something right there on the tip of his tongue. Something he's missing.

He just has to figure out what.


	74. Chapter 74

There's a brief lull, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Everyone's thinking about the situation: about Era, about likely suspects, about what they can do and what should have been done.

The quiet's broken by Clark, still on the phone.

"Should I stay here, or should I come back?"

"Stay there," Bruce says, right as Will interjects as well.

"Check with Gunn," Will says immediately. "He's the head of security, he might be able to tell you about minor incidents that didn't get reported but raised a red flag."

"Give me a moment," Clark says.

"Kryptonian influence is likely," Bruce says. "But Lex is also a significant possibility. He spent a lot of time trying to undermine Clark... what are the odds one of his methods he meant to use on Clark was easier to use on Era?"

"That's possible, but it doesn't help," Jason says. "We have no idea where he went."

"Gunn isn't here," Clark says. "The new head of security—"

"What?" Will interrupts. "Where's Gunn?"

"Moved," Clark says, sounding exasperated. "ARGUS positions are rarely permanent, especially a place as remote as this. They move teams around to keep them from going stir crazy."

"Or losing their toes to the cold," Thad says.

The realization is the lead he needs, and Will desperately pulls at it.

"The whole team is gone?"

"They all move as a unit, so they can work together more effectively," Bruce explains. "This doesn't count for those with permanent postings like Steve or Victoria, but someone like Arthur Light would have had a group he transferred around with as needed."

Which is the last bit Will needs to understand what he's been missing.

"Where was Gunn moved to?"

"Uhhh," Clark says unhelpfully.

"The League doesn't exactly have—"

"Who can get that information the fastest?" Will says, and everyone seems to realize he's following a lead, because no one argues.

"I'll call Steve."

Will turns away, grabbing his phone out of the nightstand drawer (he's never been so happy it isn't on top before) and dialing.

Timezones be damned, they can wake up.

"This had better be important," Victoria says, picking up on the second ring. She doesn't sound tired, and Will suspects she hasn't even gone to sleep yet.

"It is," Will says. "Where was—" Gunn's probably going to ring less of a bell to Victoria, so he changes tacks. "—Balewa relocated to?"

"What? Does that matter?"

"Yes. I need that information immediately."

He can hear Victoria moving around, and he hopes that his tone is enough to convey the importance of the situation.

His faith is rewarded.

"The entire team was moved from their posting at the Kryptonian ship to an ARGUS research facility in order to study the power source you handed over. They've made some good progress on it, but nothing amazing. It's still in the very early stages, after all, and when dealing with something so potentially dangerous, they want to move slowly."

"I need the address."

"That's a confidential ARGUS facility."

"And I'm entirely sure it's been taken over by Lex Luthor. I need you to provide that information and ideally _not_ tip him off, but he's smart enough he probably already knows we're coming."

"What?" Bruce says, his eyebrows pressing together. "How did— what tipped you off?"

"Fuck," Slade says. "The requisition orders. Lex is probably monitoring them as they go about their normal schedules to keep them from sending any alerts. But at the same time, they need to keep making _normal_ requisition orders or people will wonder why the team stopped making contact with the outside world."

"They requisitioned my arm twice in an attempt to draw attention, but I missed it," Will says. "I just assumed they were being stubborn, when really it was a cry for help. Requisitioning an nth metal sample wouldn't have raised any red flags, because Lex probably doesn't know what happened to the damn thing. If anything, they probably convinced _him_ to send the requisition order... because why wouldn't Lex want it?"

 _I'm pretty sure Lex is about to get it some nth metal right in his stupid mouth,_ Joey signs. He looks genuinely angry, and it isn't hard for Will to guess why as Thad lingers close to Will as if worried he's going to get hurt if he even looks away.

"I've got the address," Victoria says. "I'll send it to you directly."

"This is why I called you and not anyone else in ARGUS," Will says, doing absolutely nothing to hide his grin. "Going to go beat up a supervillain for attempted murder, I'll fill you in on all the details later."

There's suddenly a whole lot to do. Will grabs his suit out of the closet, but before he can even start putting it on Bruce waves him over.

"We need a team meeting," Bruce says. "We have to assume Lex has Era under control. That means there's serious danger, and we need to be careful."

"Clark's on his way back to us," Slade says. "With Clark and his boys, we outnumber Era and whatever else Lex has gotten ready for us."

"We have to assume he knows he failed," Will says. "We can't count on catching him off guard, but if we move fast we should be able to reach there before he gets away."

"I can get there fastest," Thad says. "I'm even faster than Clark if I really push myself and there's not too much in the way."

The address isn't all that far to begin with, and Will doesn't doubt that Thad could get there first... but he's also not willing to try.

"Get your suit on," Will says, "but I want you staying with the group."

"Should he really be going?" Bruce says. "Your sword can handle itself against Era's heat vision, but Thad..."

"Thad is, by far, the person Era's most likely to hesitate around. We only need a half second to take him down."

"Clark, his six boys, Will—"

"I'm going," Bruce says. "Someone needs to be on the ground to deal with Lex who he'll consider a real threat."

"I'm going to stay here," Slade announces. "Someone needs to make sure the house is intact, and not everyone's going."

All of a sudden all the attention is on the three who _haven't_ chimed in.

"I... I need to stay," Damian says quietly. "I can't risk another injury until it's healed."

"You can help Slade with mission command. We don't have the cave fully set up, which means he'll be limited," Bruce says. It's true, but it's also still clearly him giving Damian something to do so he doesn't feel bad.

"I'm going," Jason says.

Joey glances between Jason and the rest of the group, and then shakes his head.

 _I'm staying,_ he signs. _But I want Jason in my suit._

"Hold on," Jason says, caught off guard. "The ikon suit?"

 _Keeping you safe is more important than me running into battle,_ Joey signs. _We're almost the same size. It'll fit in a pinch, and you can fix it up later._

Jason's going more and more red with each word.

"But it's yours," he says. "It's your thing, and I don't want to... I don't want to take that away from you."

 _Then consider it an early anniversary gift,_ Joey signs. _I know you'll do good things with it._

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to Jason's cheek, and Jason ends up so red he'd make an apple look pale.

"That's everyone then," Will says. "I'm taking Jason, Thad, and Bruce, along with Clark and his boys."

"Diana's coming too," Bruce confirms. "Jon's already gone to pick her up."

"Good," Slade says. "She's good backup, especially in a situation like this."

By the time the Kents all arrive (with Diana in tow), Bruce's in his gear, Jason and Will are in their ikon suits, and Thad's suited up in his replacement Titans gear.

"Pity Hal isn't here," Diana says as she lands. "Flying with him is a great deal more comfortable."

"Sorry," Jon mumbles, looking embarrassed. "Under the armpits the safest."

"It's fine," Clark says reassuringly, reaching down to rest his hand on Jon's shoulder. "We're just lucky the ARGUS base isn't far."

Of course _isn't far_ is subjective: the base is two states over, but still within a quick, thirty minute flight.

"I want you keeping pace with us," Will instructs Thad. "Don't go in just because you can get there first."

"You know the formation," Clark says to his own. "No breaking off. If we see Era in the air, passengers take first priority. Get them on the ground."

"We know!" Complains Ren. "We've got this."

Will has no doubt that they have. They've clearly all been trained, drilled for stuff like this without question.

There are no long goodbyes, no teary farewells. No one's allowing themselves to think about what may or may not happen. Not after the last time.

It hasn't even been thirty minutes since Will almost died, and he doesn't hesitate when Yen moves over, lifting him off the ground for the flight to Luthor.


	75. Chapter 75

Era isn't in the air as they approach. Will's eyesight is good enough—even with the high wind—to tell that much. By the time they arrive it's still dark, but the sky is perfectly clear. Cloudless. It's great for making sure Era isn't coming at them, but all but guarantees Lex will see them coming.

They descend as a group, meeting Thad on the ground.

"Thad," Will says, turning to his youngest. "Quick one around, don't get close."

Thad's gone before he finishes speaking, but it doesn't matter—he's back again in no time at all, skidding to a stop in front of the group.

"No sign of trouble or anything weird," he confirms. "There's lights on in one of the labs, but everything else looks quiet."

"Clark?" Diana asks. She doesn't even elaborate on what she's looking for, the entire group working seamlessly as a team.

"Life-signs in one of the buildings. I'd say on-site housing. All still, either asleep or sedated. Two in the building with the lights. One's lying down, one's sitting down."

"Lying down is probably Era," Will says. "He's probably still trying to achieve full control, and Era's fighting him."

"We can't know for sure," Diana says. "Until proven otherwise, restrain Era. There's no telling what kind of control Luthor has over him."

"You're the one with the lasso," Jason says with a snort. "So that's going to be on you."

"We shouldn't be out here. Lets go," Bruce says.

No one objects. They move at once, those of them on foot covered defensively by those in the air. Jason opts to run along with him, not confident enough in his flight for finer control, and Will doesn't blame him.

Flying's tricky at the best of times, and right then is _far_ from the best of times.

The labs are all separate buildings, and just like Thad said only one of them is lit up. It's practically a walking billboard, which means Lex either isn't afraid of them or is actively hoping they'll come. Neither is good, so Clark, the strongest of them, goes in first, while Bruce goes last, taking a moment outside to ensure that whatever happens, Lex isn't going to be communicating with anyone. 

The lab itself is a large, mostly empty space. It's well lit, with equipment lining the walls that Will at least partially recognizes. But it's what's in the center of the room that draws his attention most: Era, lying flat on a table, and Lex sitting beside him.

Lex isn't even looking at Era. He's looking straight at them as they enter the building, looking casual as can be. His leg is folded over his knee, his posture relaxed. He isn't afraid of what's going to happen, and that worries Will in a way that Lex with some kind of anti-Kryptonian rifle wouldn't.

He doesn't know what Lex is after. He doesn't know what his plan is. And for someone who prides himself on being two steps ahead, finding out that Lex is three steps ahead is deeply unpleasant.

"Welcome," Lex calls to them as they approach, weapons and gear already ready. He makes no move to attack, and when Diana gets right to business, catching him in her lasso, he only smiles.

Will's stomach sinks.

"What trickery is this?" Diana says, her anger obvious.

"No tricks," Lex says, showing his hands even with his arms pinned at his sides. "I'm simply here to present a deal."

 _A deal_ is so much worse than Will imagined. Violence would be better. Whatever the deal is, it isn't going to be good.

"Let Era go!" Thad yells, his body seeming to blur ever so slightly as he vibrates with righteous anger.

"Please," Lex says simply. "He's simply sedated. I wouldn't destroy a weapon that powerful, even if it _was_ Kryptonian in origin. But he proved too difficult to control right then, so my original plan failed. In addition, you found me all too quickly; I must admit, I'm quite curious as to how you did."

Will doesn't tell him. Luthor absolutely doesn't need to know that his downfall was thanks to a pack of ARGUS scientists thinking quickly.

"Then what's your plan B?" Bruce asks, arms folded across his chest.

"Pay attention," Lex chides, which is halfway impressive considering he still has the lasso around him. "This is. The original plan was to use your robot to turn public opinion against Kryptonians. Obviously, that plan's been scrapped, so we're onto plan B. I offer you a deal, and you take it."

There's an awkward silence. No one wants to be the one to ask, so Will does it for them.

"What's the deal?"

"I don't want Kryptonians here," Luthor says. "You have a planet of your own, so go back to it. If Mrs. Lane would like to say, so be it, but I want every Kryptonian to go right to Kandor. I'm not asking you to die or anything dramatic like that, just go be with your own kind, now that they exist."

"How considerate," Clark says dryly. "No."

"Please," Luthor says, "you should know me better than that."

Will knows there's going to be a threat, he just can't figure out what Luthor's going to threaten them _with._ What does he have? What can he do?

Diana tightens her grip, and the lasso's light brightens, apparently compelling Luthor to keep talking and actually answer the question Clark posed.

"Leave," Lex says, "or the information I've collected goes public, and poor Bruce and his family end up destroyed."

Lex moves his mouth. As fast as Will is, he isn't fast enough. He manages to catch Lex's jaw, but he's already swallowed down wherever the hell it is he had in his mouth.

His first thoughts are that Lex has just taken some kind of suicide pill, but when he tries to jab his fingers down Lex's throat to induce vomiting the man's already passing out.

"Fast acting sedative," Bruce says. "He'll be fine."

"...To prevent us from forcing information out of him," Diana says, releasing the lasso and bending down to inspect Lex. "We don't know what information he has, and it's possible that by the time we wake him back up, it'll already be live."

Clark sees where the conversation is going and clears his throat, looking at his boys. "Jon, take your brothers and go check in on the ARGUS team."

Which isn't going to stop them from listening in, but it gives at least the pretense of privacy.

"He must be working with someone," Jason says. "Someone has to be watching for Clark to be gone. Could we fake it...? Say Clark is leaving but then not really?"

Will's running back through everything that's happened, trying to figure out what Lex does or doesn't know.

"I think he knows about Slade and I," Will says, and Thad double takes, apparently realizing what Will means only after a second. "That's why he wanted my DNA. He wasn't trying to clone me... he was trying to prove we're the same person."

"Socially that would be a mess," Bruce says after a moment's hesitation, "but legally he's in the clear."

"Thomas?" Jason suggests.

"Already effectively public," Bruce says. "If anything, that would play out well for us. The public isn't a fan of the person he killed, and if anything they'd advocate for him to go free."

"What's the worst case scenario we're looking at here?" Diana asks, already securing Luthor's still form. "What's the worst thing that could come out?"

Bruce looks at Will, and Will looks right back. That's the obvious answer: the thing that could end up very, very badly for them. But these are, more than Will's, _Bruce's_ friends, and it's up to him if he wants to say it.

He does.

"I and— Slade and I are both seeing Will."

Diana looks genuinely surprised—and very confused—but it's Clark's reaction that surprises him.

He looks embarrassed, and Will calls him on it.

"You knew."

"Blue was coming back from the woods when he saw you ah... sneak a kiss. He ran to me and I had to... to talk to the boys about it, because of course he told his brother's first."

"Who knows?" Bruce asks, looking more and more mortified.

"Everyone but my parents. I mean, I don't care, but I think— I mean, I'm not sure how they'd... ah, take it."

"You'll have to explain this to me later," Diana says. "What matters is how the public would take it."

"It's not illegal," Bruce says, "but socially it would be... a negative response, most likely. Not devastating, but bad."

"I can't figure out how Lex would have found out, but if Blue saw, it's possible Lex did. We'll have to prepare for that."

"Maybe you should go public before he can announce it?" Thad asks, glancing between the two of them.

"No," Bruce says. "It's something that would make sense for us to be discrete about. No one would be shocked to learn we hid it, so better to keep it to ourselves and let it come out. If anything, it would help us: people tend to look charitably on those being blackmailed."

"Blackmailed," Will snorts. "Who knew that this was where I was going to end up... being blackmailed."

His eyes fall down to Luthor.

"What's happening to him?"

"We build a better prison," Bruce says. "We figure out how he escaped, and we patch the holes. We keep going, and if he escapes again, we keep trying."

"Bruce, my family and I could always take a trip to Kandor—"

"When someone blackmails you, you don't give in," Diana says. "We need to stand firm on this point."

"So we prepare," Bruce says. "We don't know how much time we have before this goes live, but... we prepare. We get ready in every way we can. We get Luthor into prison. We make sure everyone in ARGUS is alright. We let the public know he was caught and what happened to get us to this point."

Jason's been extra quiet, and Will turns his head, looking towards him.

"...Jason?"

Bruce startles, his attention suddenly stolen.

"What if it's about me?" Jason says quietly.

"What if what's about you?" Thad asks, glancing between the group.

"The... what if the blackmail—"

"Jason," Bruce says, and he steps over, pulling his son into his arms. "There's no way he could have known. We'll figure it out."

"Figure out _what?"_ Diana says. She looks agitated, while Clark just looks confused.

"It's not something we'd talk about here," Bruce says. "It... probably won't come up. If it does, we'll address it then, but it's a personal matter."

Diana clearly doesn't like it, but Clark intervenes.

"Let's trust Bruce on this one," he says. "He's always been forthcoming about things with us—" He stops, seemingly aware of the fact that he's saying that just minutes after finding out Bruce was hiding a relationship from him, and then forges onward. "—about important things. If we needed to know, he would tell us, and I'm sure he has good reasons for not saying."

Clark gives Bruce a firm look, and Bruce gives him a very subtle nod. Jason's still in his arms, leaning heavily against Bruce for support as he works through what Will is sure is a panic attack or something approaching one.

"Then we're done," Will says. "There's nothing else we can really do here."

"You're done," Diana says. "I'm going to stay on site as the authorities arrive, but the rest of you should get home."

"...Is Jason going to be okay?" Thad asks him quietly, and Will hesitates a moment before nodding.

"We'll make sure he is," he says, resting his hand on Thad's shoulder. "Us, and everyone else. Jason's got a lot of people worried about him, after all."

Thad zips over to Jason and after a moment's hesitation joins Bruce in hugging him, and Will watches Jason's arm slip over to pull Thad into the hug too.

No matter what Lex has in store for them, Will knows they'll be ready for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this part is done. I'm sure many of you can guess at what the next part is going to involve, but there will be a slight delay as I get my notes in order ahead of starting it. You can expect it around Wednesday or Thursday this week.
> 
> If you haven't, considered checking out [the discord](https://discord.gg/kYvx6cd) to chat and speculate with others who are caught up!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Take Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21801784) by [shinetheway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinetheway/pseuds/shinetheway)




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